Visit Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
#yoongi e2l
minyfic · 15 days ago
snafu - MYG
pairing: yoongi x reader (past jimin x reader)
summary: the one where you've been a hermit for months after a "breakup" and your best friends have had enough.
genre: crack, fluff
word count: 2.2K
warnings/tags: strong language, yoongles is one cocky guy, makeouts, e2l, tae is a little shit
a/n: yoongi, my bias, has arrived. Once again @whatifyoulivelikethat's prompt list (this is the yoongi I had in mind while writing this)
here is my take on prompt #6 let's go
You stand at the side of the lounge, next to the lamp, away from the noise and ruckus of a party that was supposed to be a “chilled evening with a few chilled people hanging around, just chilling”, but it seems like you and your best friend see that statement in two completely different perspectives. Because now you’re witnessing Taehyung try to sweettalk his goldfish, Romeo, that it’s nothing personal and he just has to gulp him down for a stupid dare.
But it’s all okay, because in a few, no, in half an hour you can go home and get back to your GoT binge and cuddle with your sweet, sweet, Mr. Snowdrop.
A few people look your way, and you give them the perfunctory nod and smile, and then they continue with their makeout session. You need to get out of here, but before you do that, Tae needs to know that you showed up, you’re here, and now you’re going home. So, you make your way through the gyrating bodies and into the kitchen.
“Hobi, where’s Tae? I need to- Oh, hey Chi- Jimin...”, you wave awkwardly at Jimin who is leaning against the counter filled with drinks.
“Hey Y/N.”
You turn to face Hoseok who is sipping from his red cup and eyeing you and Jimin weirdly, “Hobi where’s Tae? I want to go home, and he needs to know that I was here otherwise I’m not gonna hear the end of it for the rest of my life.”
Hoseok gives you a quizzical look, “but weren’t you here when we were setting up, he knows you came, so I don’t see- “ “Hobi, you don’t understand, remember that stupid deal we made, it wasn’t even a deal, more like an ultimatum, but anyway he needs to know that I didn’t leave ten minutes after the party started.”
Jimin, who was listening to your conversation the entire time, speaks before Hoseok can respond, “I'll look for Tae”, and he whips out of the kitchen with lightning speed.
“So, things are still awkward between you two?” Hoseok asks while you move to the counter to skim through the drinks.
“I wouldn’t say awkward, I mean I’m glad we're back on talking terms, but I’d be lying if I say I don’t miss my best friend…”, you sigh and Hoseok mirrors your action.
“What happened exactly?”, but before you can answer, a booming voice interrupts you.
“OH MY GOD, you’re still here and it's, what like”, Taehyung glances at his imaginary watch on his left wrist, “10:30?”
“Its 11:30”, you pipe back, “and I can go home now, so, I’m out”
“OMG, 11:30”, Taehyung continues with his sarcastic tone and Hoseok giggles from your side while you roll your eyes, “but hold on, you’re not leaving just yet, not without your date that is.”
Hoseok yells out a hell yes and you raise an eyebrow at both your friends, “my date? I didn’t come here with a date.”
Taehyung scoffs and puts his arm around your shoulder, “but you’re sure as hell leaving with one.”
You push your friend's arm off your shoulder and pout at him, “but Tae, I told you I’m not ready to go on a date just yet, you know that.”
“Oh please, you and Jimin weren’t even actually dating, you confused your platonic feelings mixed with a few fucks and then some drunken confessions and voila!” He slams his now empty cup on the counter, “lost friendship forever.”
“Not forever,” you pout, “him and I are normal again, we just need to...”
“Pshht, normal?”, Hoseok interrupts with a goofy smile on his face, “from what I witnessed just now, you guys are far from normal.”
“But...”, Taehyung shushes you with a finger pushed to your lips.
“Enough about Jimin, you and him just need some time to realize that things aren’t all that serious and everything will be back to normal”, Taehyung says with a shrug of his shoulders, “and besides, someone had their eye on you all night…”
You whip your head around to see where Taehyung is pointing from the kitchen doorway.
And there, in all his glory, sits Min Yoongi; star basketball player, music major, producer in the making, kind of a recluse but has his own circle of friends, a few of which are your friends too, who happen to be the two gentlemen who are standing with you in the kitchen right now.
He seems to be immersed in his phone and is slouching in the armchair at the corner of the lounge near the front door.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Min Yoongi? The guy who isn’t shy about expressing his distaste for literally the entire human population and wont even give the opposite gender a second glance.”
“Stop being so dramatic Y/N, and just because you haven’t seen him with a girl doesn’t mean he’s asexual, in fact he told me he thinks you’re pretty hot”, Taehyung picks his nails and Hoseok shoots him a look.
“Hyung’s going to kill you.”
“And besides, he doesn’t express interest in anyone unless they initiate some form of attraction for him first,” Taehyung continues, “he’s a busy guy.”
You squint your eyes at him, “so why would he say I’m hot? You probably had to beat that out of him. If…”, and then you realize, “you told him I think he’s sexy?!”
“No no, I may have, might have, maybe said you think he’s attractive…”
“What the fuck Taehyung? Are you kidding me? I didn’t even say that about him exactly, I said it's sexy when he uses his hands... oh my god...”, you rest your head on Hoseok’s shoulder.
“What’s the big deal?” Hoseok asks with a shrug and you lift your head and glare at him with wide eyes.
“You’re in this too?!”
Hoseok raises his hands defensively, “I’m just saying, Hyung is my best friend and he’s not all that bad, I mean besides the fact that he can be a bit curt sometimes and if it makes you feel any better, he hasn’t gotten laid for almost a year, longer than you even!” He tries to comfort you, but you don’t miss the “Hyung’s gonna kill me for saying that.”
You stare at both your friends in disbelief, “do you remember the last time we all got together? He was a fucking grump who just always seemed to get on my nerves.”
Taehyung grabs your shoulders, “yes exactly you two fought like cats and dogs, all that pent up sexual frustration...”
You push Taehyung’s hands off your shoulders, “I revoke your best friend title Kim Taehyung, you too Hoseok,” you turn to face Hoseok who looks at you with pleading eyes.
Taehyung sighs and stands at the kitchen doorway to wave someone over, but you don’t see who until its too late because a few moments later, Yoongi is walking in and Taehyung says he’ll be right back.
Yoongi comes to shoulder bump Hoseok and then he turns to you, and then you realize what pisses you off about him.
He knows just how sexy he is, with his pouty lips and smoldering eyes. He wears a white T-shirt with black skinny jeans and he decided to kill you today by brushing his hair to the side and exposing his forehead, earrings glinting in the dim lighting.
He looks you up and down and turns to Hoseok and they start talking about basketball, and you decide to fill a red cup to busy yourself. But it’s too awkward to stand there and you don’t want to leave the kitchen and deal with the sweaty bodies, so you smirk to yourself and without lifting your gaze from the cup, you speak.
“Wow Yoongi saying more than three words at a social setting,” interrupting the conversation and you can see both pairs of eyes on you from your peripheral.
But that smirk is wiped off your face when, “Wow Y/N at a party for longer than three minutes,” Yoongi drawls.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh my god, see”, Hoseok turns to you, “just fucking kiss already.” And he storms out, leaving you and Yoongi alone to stand in the kitchen. The only sound that can be heard is the soft humming coming from the fluorescent light.
“So, how are you?” Yoongi finally breaks the silence but you are stunned because,
“Yoongi, seriously, since when do you do small talk and why do you care about how I am?” You step closer to him as he leans against the kitchen counter with his hands placed flat on the granite and, boy do his forearms look juicy.
“I mean, if my dick is gonna be inside you later, I think I should know how you are.” As nonchalant as ever, and you almost cough up your drink, but what else did you expect from him, the guy who's known for his blunt remarks.
You go to stand next to him and lean against the counter, “please, the only thing your dick will be in later”, you lean closer to his face, “is your fist.”
He chuckles and takes your almost empty cup from your hand, “then tell me,” he takes a sip and stares at you from over the rim of the cup, “if you’re so opposed to the idea, why are you here right now?”
You give him a confused look, “what do you mean ‘why am I here’, this is my friend’s party.”
He chuckles again, darker this time and you don’t miss the way his tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, “I mean”, he moves to stand in front of you and cages you in by placing both his palms on the counter behind you, “why are you standing here? Why did you move to be closer to me?”
From this close, you can smell his breath; mint and whatever it was you were drinking. A shiver runs down your spine from the eye contact, Yoongi never makes eye contact, you haven’t seen this side of him before and for some reason you’re not mad about it, in fact, you want more.
You place a hand oh his chest and you can feel his rapid heartbeat, do you have this effect on him? Because yours is beating wildly beneath your ribcage.
You push him back a little, and he drops his arms, which you immediately regret.
“Don’t think too much of yourself, Yoongi.”
He continues to stare you down and you stare at him all the same, but the energy in the room has shifted drastically and the anticipation is killing you.
“So, you don’t want to accept my gift of a fuck?”
You bite your lip in fake contemplation and Yoongi’s gaze drops to the action, and now you find yourself actually contemplating whether you would fuck him. But what the hell? This is Min Yoongi, the guy who left your bags at home on purpose when everyone went on the ski trip.
You shake your head, and he nods. But before he leaves, he leans in close to your ear, breath and lips kissing the skin, “last chance.” And you clench your thighs, an action you thought he didn’t notice, but he backs off way too quickly and leaves the kitchen.
You stand in the kitchen doorway and watch how he makes his way to a girl on the makeshift dancefloor, he whispers something in her ear, and she smiles at him, all while his gaze is fixed on you.
He stands behind her with his hands on her hips and he sways them side to side, the girl seems to be all too happy to have Min Yoongi, the guy who never gives any girl attention, all to herself. And she turns around and places her arms around his shoulders. He glances at her and then shifts his gaze back to you as he pulls her in close to his chest.
From across the room, it seems like he is having a conversation with you with his eyes, like he’s constantly asking you last chance and he seems to know the newfound effect he has on you because he has that sexy smirk plastered on his face.
He brings his hand to the girls lower back and his gaze on you seems to darken even more, if that is even possible, and he kisses her head and then he twirls her around. And before you even realize it, your body seems to have a mind of its own as you make your way to him and yank his hand.
You know your destination and you can only imagine the smug grin he's sporting. He lets you drag him up the stairs and to Taehyung’s room.
When you pull the door open, two guys seem to be arguing but you don’t have time for this.
“Get the fuck out.” Both the guys stare at you and then make their way to the door while you stand off to the side so they can leave, with your's and Yoongi’s hands still intertwined.
Once empty, you slam the door shut and push him against it.
Before he can say anything, your lips are already on his while one of his hands fist your hair and the other goes to your hip.
When you finally break for air, he speaks.
“So, change your mind?” He asks out of breath with a shit eating grin on his face.
“Shut up."
a/n: let me know what you think, and if you want a part 2! my asks are open for feedback and requests.
link to my masterlist here
55 notes · View notes
jooneos · 17 days ago
hat eat first weeb | 10
Tumblr media
WRITERS; @jooneos & tumblr ghost billie GENRE; humour, slowburn RATING; teens & up PAIRING; jeon jungkook/n!reader WORDCOUNT; 4′967 AU; college au, e2l, weeb!reader, weeb!jungkook, weeb!jimin, jimin is lgbt, taehyung is lgbt WARNINGS; jungkook and reader have a feud, swearing, teasing PLAYLIST; weeby tunes
› SYNOPSIS; You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won’t let you bREATHE. › TAGLIST; @chogiyeol-utopia @thegirlwithamigraine @hell-is-here-and-now @cchristinnaa @bangtanstanst @nininek12 @badbhye @hobistigma @mygukandonly @hermiones-enchantment @tae-making @whoreiguana @jkthethief @lelaasposts @ggukkieland​ (let us know if you’d like to be added!) › MASTERLISTS; jooneos | series
previous | next
Tumblr media
Jungkook wipes down the last table, specks of surface cleaner dot the wooden tabletops before they smear into lines of soap and then disappear entirely as he sponges them away. The lunchtime rush, unpredictably, had left him sweeping and cleaning hours earlier than he normally would. He wipes the table in diligent circles. Pop music plays softly from the speakers and he moves his hips to the rhythm, enjoying the early afternoon lull that comes as people head back to work and kids go back to school. He bops his head in time, a few strands of hair falling from his ponytail. He brushes them behind his ears, glad that his boss isn’t here today. He had threatened to make him wear a hairnet on his first day if he didn’t take care of it, safe to say, Jungkook had never forgotten to tie it back again. 
Naruto meows for attention, perched on the cat tree in the window and watching as Jungkook cleans.
“In a minute, buddy,” Jungkook tells him affectionately, tucking the bottle of cleaner into the pocket of the frilly pink apron – the only mandatory uniform he had been given. The fuchsia colour of it had hurt his eyes a little in the beginning. When Jungkook had put it on on his first day, he’d been a little awkward in tying the big bow and his boss hadn’t appreciated the joke he’d made about being a naked waiter. But he was used to it now, and the front pocket was actually really handy when he needed to hide treats for Naruto in it.
The sound of the oven timer pings over the hum of the coffee machine and Naruto straightens hopefully, his ears twitch a little. Excitement bubbles up in Jungkook as he looks at the munchkin kitten. His tail swishes questioningly. Little does Naruto know that tonight, finally, Jungkook is taking him home. 
He smiles at the cat, it’s been a while in the making, and a lot of convincing his boss, but eventually he was allowed to officially adopt Naruto, and take him home to live in his apartment. He had even borrowed Yoongi’s cat carrier, which sits next to the counter. It’s huge, definitely built for a cat the size of Prince Coleus rather than Naruto, but it’ll do for today.
Jungkook drops his sponge at the sink and walks into the kitchen, fighting with the hanging beads that cover the door. One too many times, had his hair gotten stuck between the snapping beads. The smell of fresh cookies wafts through the room and Jungkook sighs contentedly. He picks up the oven mits and bends down to open up the oven and take the tray out. His glasses fog up slightly and, after placing the tray on the counter, he wipes them off with his shirt. 
The cookies are still hot, and look gooey soft, just how Jungkook loves them. The temptation to just devour them right then and there itches against his skin, but it’ll take a chunk out of his wages and, now that he has an extra living thing to take care of, he should at least try to be a responsible cat parent. He resists the temptation and begins to place the cookies onto the cooling rack, hissing when the desserts burn his fingers. 
He’s running cool water over the hot tray when the bell tinkles, and the classic sound of Millie the tabby screeching for attention carries back towards the kitchen. Jungkook dries his hands on the towel and throws it over his shoulder before going to greet the customer. He doesn’t even have the chance to breathe a word of greeting when he’s already being interrupted. 
“You have got to be kidding me.”
He startles and looks up, the first thing he sees is a human shaped bundle of scarves and a fluffy beanie with a pompom on top. And then he breaks into a huge smile. 
“Oh, hey neighbour, what can I get for you?” 
You scowl, but that just makes Jungkook smile even bigger as he leans against the counter. There’s something vindictive that rises in his chest every time you’re visibly antagonised by his actions. It’s just, fun, to tease you. Since the convention, things have been… a little weird. He’s not exactly sure how or what changed, but something definitely did. He’s also not sure if it changed for the better, you seem more on edge around him lately, as though you’re expecting him to stab you or something. 
“A lawyer so I can put a restraining order on you?” You raise an eyebrow and Jungkook presses his lips together to smother a laugh. You reach out to scratch Naruto’s head, who cranes his neck to lean into your touch. He’s not sure why, but all of a sudden, Jungkook is picturing himself in Naruto’s place. Not on the cat tree and definitely not as a cat, but with your hand in his hair. It kind of looks soothing, he thinks, gentle. Jungkook blinks the unsettling thought away.
“Uh, we only do drinks and cakes,” he blurts, shaken by the uncharacteristic thoughts his, clearly, overworked brain is coming up with. 
Really, Jungkook? he curses himself, you can write flirty dialogue between two anime characters but you can’t flirt out loud?
Jungkook watches your shoulders drop in a sigh as you take off your huge scarf and sit down.
“Just a tea,” you tell him.
Tea. Jungkook can make tea. He’s made tea hundreds of times. This is fine. He turns to the counter as you turn away from him to greet the cats that lounge in their beds. 
“So…” Jungkook trails, in an attempt to make small talk. He’s so bad at small talk, and he can feel the ‘so, how about the weather, huh?’ question trying to wiggle its way out of his mouth. He swallows. He’d rather die than make small talk with you about the weather. And since when does he want to have conversations with you? You’re mean and grumpy and always make fun of his hair. He frowns at the water boiler.
“You don’t have to speak to me,” you tell him. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”
Jungkook is quiet for a few moments, but he’s no good at prolonged silence between two people. Especially awkward silences.
“There’s a new chapter out soon,” Jungkook blurts as he picks up a clean teacup and saucer, placing it on the counter while he waits for the water to start boiling. “I thought I’d let my number one fan know.”
“You know, these fan jokes are getting old,” you reply in a bored tone and Jungkook smiles to himself.
“Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“There is no mood to lighten.”
The kettle turns noisy and Jungkook doesn’t attempt to speak over it, preferring to stew in the low noises of the cat café. He busies himself with preparing the little bottle of milk from the fridge and the complementary cat shaped biscuits that they give out alongside their hot drinks. He pops them on a tray and adds a few sugar packets as the kettle finishes boiling. He hums a little as he putters around the kitchen. He adds the hot water to the teabag, swearing under his breath when a small drop of the boiling water splashes back onto his hand.
Maybe he’s nervous because he’s so aware that you and him are alone. Yeah, it’s not that you make him nervous, it’s that you’ve never really shared any time together, well, except for the unfortunate blackout. And the convention doesn’t count because clearly he’d inhaled toxic fumes that had made him want to be somewhat nice to you. The eleven cats observe him carefully as he places the cup of tea on a tray. He coughs slightly, clearing his throat and carries the tray over to where you sit, your textbook and notes already out in front of you. You’ve taken your hat off and a few strands of your hair stick up at odd angles. Jungkook smiles, and represses the urge to flatten them as he places the tray down.
“Here you go.”
He hovers. What if you don’t like it? What if you roast him for his inability to make a good cup of tea? He eyes Naruto, wishing that cats could talk to offer him some kind of encouragement. He doesn’t notice that you haven’t even taken a sip, when you snap him out of his momentary panic. 
“Yes?” you’re raising your eyebrow at him, cup warming your hands. 
“Is it okay?” he asks.
You sigh again.
You sigh an awful lot, Jungkook thinks, but he’s pleasantly surprised when you add milk and sugar to your tea, stir and then raise the cup to your lips. He watches nervously. It’s just a cup of tea, he reminds himself, why are you so nervous about a cup of tea? 
You place the cup down. “It’s better than your drawing skills,” you shrug and Jungkook shoulders relax.
“Okay, great,” he begins to turn away when it finally clicks. Better than his drawing skills?! “Hey!” 
Tumblr media
So, maybe, Jungkook should have expected that Naruto would find a way to slip out between Yoongi’s legs as he was struggling with a multitude of grocery bags. Maybe, he should have been more careful and not let the kitten roam free in their apartment just yet. But he’s new at this and really Yoongi should have warned him. 
He had been getting ready to shower when Yoongi had burst into the bathroom – curse the broken lock – with his hands over his eyes, alerting Jungkook that Naruto was nowhere to be found. And it was in that moment that Jungkook knew he was truly a parent: his heart had swooped into his stomach and left him with a roiling feeling of unease; his palms had gone clammy and cold sweat had broken out on his back. 
It’s like this that he finds himself wearing mismatched sweats with embarrassing anime prints, roaming the halls of his apartment building. He crouches down, looks behind Mrs. Thermalopoulos potted plant, and sighs. Still no sign of the kitten. 
“Naruto,” Jungkook calls softly, making a noise with his lips in an attempt to summon him from a dark corner that he most likely isn’t even in. He sighs and straightens up, looking down the hallway. What if he tried to get back to the cafe? What if something happened to him?
Jungkook may just be close to tears. He checks his phone, hoping that Yoongi would have found him on his hunt through the lower floors. Nothing. 
Jungkook jumps when the door in front of him opens, and he comes face to face with an elderly lady tucked into a fluffy blue robe, looking at him with a stern stare. He sees her in the elevator a lot, and she tends to scold him for not wearing a coat. 
“Shouldn’t you be in bed instead of lurking outside of other people’s doors, young man?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen at the claim, he isn’t a lurker. 
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” He tries to turn on his charm, “it’s just that I’ve lost my cat, and I can’t find him.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up, dear.” She reaches out to place a comforting hand on his arm.
“He’s just so small. He came home for the first time today,” Jungkook explains and she nods.
“I did see a little spotty fella out here earlier,” she tells him. “You can try next door, they often take in strays.”
He nods, “Thank you ma’am, I’ll give it a try.”
“Be careful, dear.” She smiles as she steps back into her apartment, “and good luck with finding him.”
Jungkook smiles as the door closes before he turns to face the only other door in the corridor. Your door. Just his fucking luck, he thinks.
He knocks hesitantly, preparing himself for you to accuse him of stalking again – oh, how the tables have turned. He waits for a moment, and hears footsteps inside.
You swing the door open, the blanket around your shoulders flutters a little like a cape. He’s about to make a joke about it, but is distracted when he notices the little ball of fluff in your arms.
“That’s my cat,” he blurts. You furrow your eyebrows disbelievingly. 
“Prove it,” you respond, and now, that’s just confusing.
“What do you mean prove it, you cat-clepto? That’s my fucking cat, give him back!” His voice goes slightly high but really he’s had enough of this. You can’t just steal his cat, there is a line here. You tilt your head a little, look at him for a long moment and Naruto meows cutely. “Hm,” you say, and Jungkook dreads to know what your evil brain is concocting. He doesn’t know what the hell he was thinking at the cat café, you’re clearly a minion of the Antichrist. Slowly and carefully, you put Naruto on the floor and raise an eyebrow when he walks over unprompted, rubbing against Jungkook’s leg. He picks him up.
“See? He’s my cat.”
“Well, he could do that with anyone,” you sniff in annoyance. “I fed him and he likes me.” 
You reach out to scratch Naruto’s head and Jungkook almost turns away from you.
“Don’t you, Sir Miroku Nekoyasha?” you coo.
Jungkook freezes. Sir whatta?
“Excuse me, I think I misheard you, Sir what?” he splutters in disbelief.
“Sir Miroku Nekoyasha,” you reply as if it’s obvious while Jungkook scoffs. “He likes the name.”
“He’s called Naruto,” Jungkook tells you.
“Now that’s just cruel. Why would you name such a gorgeous baby after that?”
“That? Excuse me?” 
He doesn’t care for this, standing in the icycold, listening to some Inuyasha fan insult his taste. He huffs and shakes out his leg a little in annoyance. And fuck, it’s freezing. He’ll bet Mr. Han left the corridor window open again. 
“Look, he answers to Sir Miroku Nekoyasha. If you don’t believe me, I could do a demonstration.”
“That won’t be necessary, I’d rather minimise Naruto’s exposure to that monstrous name.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the name!”
“You named my cat after the worst anime ever created!”
“You’ve never even seen it.”
“I don’t have to,” Jungkook retorts, stroking Naruto’s head gently. His poor cat. 
“It’s 11pm, are you two really arguing about anime right now?” Jungkook looks over your shoulder to see Jimin leaning against the hallway wall. 
“He named his poor cat, Naruto!” you protest but there’s only one thing Jungkook can focus on; he really wants to go to bed but he can’t leave this Sir Miroku Nekoyasha situation alone. 
“Sir Miroku Nekoyasha is worse!”
“Well, I’m telling you, you’re wrong,” you argue back. “And I can’t believe that we fed your cat for you and you don’t even say thank you,” you sniff disapprovingly at him. 
Jungkook sighs, and grits his teeth.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you gloat and Jungkook can feel a migraine beginning to pound against the back of his eyes. He turns away from the door and starts walking back towards the stairs, kissing the top of Naruto’s head, “Let’s get you home, Naruto.”
“It’s Sir Miroku Nekoyasha!”
Tumblr media
Fortunately, the rest of the evening goes on without a hitch. Yoongi leaves to go to the movies with Seokjin. Prince Coleus teaches Naruto how to fight the faulty faucet, a very important cat duty, clearly, and Jungkook cooks some instant ramen. It’s a quiet evening, he draws a little, slurps on his noodles, feeds the cats. It’s chill, it’s nice. It’s, so very peaceful, until he hears you and Jimin singing along to the Given theme song. An absolutely horrifying sound. 
He sighs and does the dishes, Naruto seems fascinated with the soap dispenser and meows every time Jungkook comes anywhere near the bottle. 
At around 11pm, Taehyung knocks on his door, stumbles into his apartment and makes a beeline for his room, reeking of cheap beer and frat house. He starts scanning Jungkook’s drawing basically unprompted and tells him a horrifying tale of all the wild things his brothers and him had gotten up to. Jungkook can’t help but be glad that Yoongi stopped him from joining a frat. No offense to Taehyung, but some of the things they do are beyond stupid and Jungkook would rather be drawing than causing trouble. 
He stares up at his handmade timetable, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against his sketchbook. It outlines the dates of every chapter – when he needs to have completed sketching, when he needs to have finished linework, when the inking needs to be done and finally the date it needs to be released. It’s the virgo in him, as Taehyung often tells him. He just needs to schedule these things. 
It’s almost 3am when Taehyung falls into his bed and promptly starts snoring. Jungkook definitely can’t blame him. If he was able to fall asleep, he would have passed out long before now. 
Taehyung’s soft snores now provide Jungkook with a quiet background noise, keeping him company when everything else is still and silent. He stands up from his seat, knees cracking as they resist the movement, and he lets out a soft groan as he stretches his back. He presses a few buttons on his scanner, trying to wake it from standby mode, and it whirs to life. Taehyung stirs on the bed, making Naruto bristle and stand up. 
“I told you, the bees will sting you,” Taehyung murmurs through his sleep, turning over to lay at the other side of the bed with his legs splayed across the covers. Naruto climbs up Taehyung’s thigh, he barely stirs as the kitten trecks up his leg and perches himself on Tae’s ass. Naruto starts kneading his ass, purring slightly before he curls up into a tiny fluffy ball. His tail flicks once and his eyes close. Jungkook smiles fondly at him.
“Fucking weirdo,” he murmurs under his breath, before he turns back to his desk to begin scanning the remaining drawings.This is definitely Tae’s forte and not his. It takes a surprising amount of concentration and dedication to scan page after page and not fuck up the order of the drawings.
He had met Taehyung a few weeks into his first semester of freshman year, when he dropped his notebook of doujinshi drawings all over the floor outside of the lecture theatre. Rather than trampling or making fun of him, like Jungkook had expected from a frat boy, Taehyung had crouched down to help, complimenting his art and telling him about how he loves anime too. They had sat together in class that day, and had been best friends ever since.
Jungkook smiles at the memory, eyeing the old picture of him and Taehyung from that first week of their friendship he tacked to the wall above his desk. He works methodically through the drawings, placing the pages on the scanning machine, periodically snatching his hand back and clutching his finger when he gets a papercut. He wonders how Taehyung manages to do this injury free every single time. He’s betting sorcery.
He stands there for a long time, the minutes blur into each other as the sky outside lightens and the sun begins to filter through his curtains. He cranes his head towards the ceiling when he hears footsteps above his head. Could that be you getting ready to go to class? It’s a welcome reminder that he probably should be doing the same. He sighs, as he thinks of your, admittedly, chilling scowl. He wishes you’d start commenting on his doujinshi again, and maybe that’s why he told you about the new chapter. He wants a reaction.
He had tried his hardest to find you annoying, to convince himself that you’re mean and rude, but it never seems to work. You’re actually pretty funny and, from the various pins that decorate the material of your backpack, he can tell that you share a lot of the same interests as him. Well, aside from the Inuyasha pin. Purely out of curiosity, he’d given in and watched a few episodes, but the only enjoyment he got from it was the knowledge that he’d be able to tease you about it even more. He seriously doesn’t get your love for it. It’s a dog show. Peak furry culture. 
He’d been tempted to ask you where you bought your Totoro pins, though. 
“The bees,” Taehyung speaks in his sleep once again, breaking Jungkook out of his thoughts and making him laugh quietly.
“What about the bees, Tae?”
Tumblr media
The last place Jungkook wants to be right now is class. Groggily, he drags himself and a half asleep Taehyung down the auditorium stairs and slides into his seat. Taehyung whines and slumps into his chair, until his forehead rests on the desk in front of him. 
“This is hell,” he mumbles against the surface and Jungkook grunts in reply. He’s vaguely aware of your presence next to him, vaguely registers the judgement that seems to radiate from you in waves as you look at him, but he’s far too tired to really care at the moment.  
The next time he’s conscious enough to formulate a half coherent thought the lecturer is saying something about group projects. That at least grabs his attention and he sits up so fast his knee bangs painfully into the leg of his desk. 
He turns to Tae who’s sitting up straight as well, looking positively refreshed despite the wild twist of his curls, the traitor. 
He’s already talking excitedly to Jimin about partnering together. Well, that’s that then, Jungkook thinks and turns to you. You’re worrying your teeth between your lips and tucking your hands into your grey hoodie. 
“Partners?” he asks, voice groggy with lost sleep. He musters a soft smile, trying to be winning, you’re really good in this class, and he, well, let’s just say it’s not his forte. He could really use a decent partner. He rests his cheek on his hand, squishing it up against his eye. 
You nod, staring at him from the corner of your eye.“I guess,” you shrug. “Just stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Jungkook asks, straightening up and dropping his arm flat against the tiny desk in front of the chair. How was he looking at you? He was just simply looking. Nothing more.
“You know what,” you grumble at him and cross your arms across your chest. He raises an eyebrow. You sigh. “Like I’m your ticket to a good grade.”
Jungkook grins, “But you are.” 
You roll your eyes at him. He stands up, heaving his backpack onto his shoulder, groaning as the weight of the whole freaking universe settles on his back. Stupid, stupid philosophy course. 
“I’ll come and pick you up at six,” he tells you, and in his tired state, he doesn’t immediately think about how that sounds. 
“To work on our assignment!” he clarifies hurriedly. “I’ll come and seek you at six to work on our assignment.”
You simply nod, shifting in your seat as you turn to pack your things away. Taehyung stands and claps a hand on his shoulder, jostling the precarious equilibrium of his backpack.
“C’mon.” Jungkook watches him send a sickly sweet smile back to Jimin. “I’ll see you later.”
The way they’re looking at each other, they may as well just be making out right there. Jungkook grumbles a little. He follows Tae out of the lecture theatre, taking one last glance back at you as you pack your things away, Jimin nudging your shoulder with a cheeky smile. He turns back just before the door hits him in the face, and he swears.
“Couldn’t have held it open for me?” he asks Tae who just grins.
“Why would I do that?” he asks innocently. Jungkook straightens out his hoodie, rolling his shoulders and pulling at the collar. 
“So, picking them up at six, huh?” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, angular grin spread across his face.
“It’s an assignment, Tae, not dinner for two by the river,” Jungkook responds, though his cheeks feel awfully hot all of a sudden. 
“Dinner for two by the river? Already got your first date planned?”
Jungkook snorts.
“I’ll tell Jimin about your bee dreams,” he threatens in retaliation to Taehyung’s teasing.
“You wouldn’t!”
Tumblr media
He knocks, knuckles rapping against the hard wood of your door at exactly 5:59pm. His sweats ride down his hips a little and he pulls them back up with a half hearted move. He gets a bit carried away with the knocking though – knock-knock, knock, knock-knock-knock knock knock – before you finally pull the door open.
“Jesus,” you huff out, and you’re busy pulling on a pair of sneakers. He can see you’d put in slightly more effort than him, sure your Sailor Moon hoodie’s embarrassing as fuck but the sky blue of it matches your socks and somehow, that’s endearing. Damn it. 
“Nope, just me, Jungkook,” he jokes. “Good guess, though.”
“Don’t make me regret partnering with you,” you deadpan, gritting through your teeth. 
“Maybe I’m the one regretting it,” he raises his eyebrows. “Not even ready at the agreed time? Does punctuality mean nothing to you?” 
He steps back as you step towards him, turning to close and lock your apartment door, sliding the keys into your pocket. The hallway is cold, and Jungkook wishes he had worn a hoodie as goosebumps rise on his bare arms. He skips down the stairs, eager to reach the heated warmth of his apartment.
“Slow down,” you grumble, and he grins, speeding up as he takes the steps two at a time. 
“I hope you fall,” you call after him. He scoffs a laugh as he reaches the bottom and leans against the wall, folding his arms and smirking at you as you finally reach the floor, glaring at him just like he knew you would be.
“Wow, about time,” he taunts, tapping at his wrist where a watch would usually sit.
“You’re not even wearing a watch,” you snap.
“Yes, but I’m on time even without one,” he opens the door to the apartment and walks in. 
“Oh my god, let it go,” you groan. 
“I heard bickering, is Y/N here?” Yoongi rounds the corner from his room, slippers flapping against his feet, still wearing his bucket hat even though he’s indoors. 
“Yoongi,” you grin at his roommate and Jungkook frowns. If you’re in cahoots with Yoongi, it’s the end for him. 
“How come they get such a warm welcome?” Jungkook mutters mostly to himself, but you ignore him.
“How’s Prince Coleus?” you ask Yoongi. Jungkook becomes distracted while you and Yoongi catch up, thinking about the time when Yoongi brought Prince Coleus home. He hadn’t told Jungkook about their new roommate right away. Safe to say, Jungkook had been more than confused to find a large black cat playing with the slightly dripping faucet in the bathroom at 3am. 
“I can’t believe you’re bringing someone home. This is unheard of.” Yoongi decides to pick his moment to tease Jungkook. He regrets zoning back into the conversation, and expresses his displeasure with a whine. Yoongi lives to embarrass Jungkook; he’s pretty sure the man’s a sadist. 
“This is a perfectly normal situation, Yoongi.” Yoongi just smirks. “We’ll be in my room if you need us.” Yoongi hums, and Jungkook shoots him a narrowed glance that subtly says ‘shut up or I’ll put cat food in your underwear drawer.’ 
Yoongi raises his hands, clearly a peace offering and Jungkook motions for you to follow him. 
He leads you down the hallway, and suddenly his palms are sweating. You’re going to be in his room. He’s praying that he didn’t leave any SJTR spoilers anywhere, he’s about to reach for the handle when you stop him in his tracks.
“Warn me now if there are any body pillows or hentai posters,” you tell him and he chokes out a panicked laugh.
“How much of a weeb do you take me for?” he chuckles awkwardly, thinking about the Makoto body pillow - that he uses strictly for cuddling – he stuffed into his wardrobe. 
“You write Free! doujinshi, don’t make me answer that.”
He can’t really argue with that, to be honest. “Touché,” he shrugs as he opens the door and leads you in. He waits as you look around, there’s an itch under his skin as you look at the posters and pictures. You linger a little on his Sousuke poster and something slightly uncomfortable siddles up his spine. 
“So you’ve got a thing for beefy boys, huh?” 
He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders to hide the momentary unease that registers somewhere in the back of his brain. “Can you blame me?” he raises an eyebrow. From the countless comments you’d left on his doujinshi over the months, before the grand feud of course, he knows you’ve got a thing for Makoto. Really, you’ve got no right teasing him about this. 
You’re quiet for a moment and then you hum, “Definitely not.”
He sits down at his desk, pulling his laptop towards him while you perch on his bed, still looking around. It’s almost cute – keyword being almost – how your eyes are all wide, taking in the plastic stars on his ceiling and pausing for a moment on his bookshelf. He sweats a little, he hid Stalking Jack the Ripper drafts in there.
“No body pillows, though – I’m impressed,” you remark and he laughs, glancing over to his closet.
“Please, I at least had the decency to hide him in the cupboard before you came over.”
Tumblr media
previous | next
› MASTERLISTS; jooneos | series
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
jooneos · 23 days ago
hate at first weeb | 8
Tumblr media
WRITERS; @jooneos​ & tumblr ghost billie GENRE; humour, slowburn RATING; teens & up PAIRING; jeon jungkook/n!reader WORDCOUNT; 4′106 AU; college au, e2l, weeb!reader, weeb!jungkook, weeb!jimin, jimin is lgbt, taehyung is lgbt WARNINGS; jungkook and reader have a feud, swearing, teasing PLAYLIST; weeby tunes
› SYNOPSIS; You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won’t let you bREATHE. › TAGLIST; @chogiyeol-utopia​ @thegirlwithamigraine @hell-is-here-and-now @cchristinnaa​ @bangtanstanst @nininek12 @badbhye @hobistigma @mygukandonly @hermiones-enchantment​ @tae-making​ @whoreiguana @jkthethief​ @lelaasposts​ @ggukkieland  (let us know if you’d like to be added!) › MASTERLISTS; jooneos | series
previous | next
Tumblr media
“Go away.” 
You growl out before Jungkook even has a chance to speak. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he ignores you, and plops himself into the seat across from you. The heavy fabric of his hoodie droops a little with humidity and hangs off his shoulders. His hair curls against his cheeks and he’s smiling brightly at you. Oh, great. 
“That’s no way to greet your favourite artist,” he says smugly and you roll your eyes. 
“Oh yeah? What makes you think you’re ‘my favourite artist’?” you ask, finally looking up and fixing Jungkook with a glare. He gets himself comfortable in his seat, pushing his hoodie sleeves up his arms. 
“A lot of things,” Jungkook twirls a scrap of folded paper on the desk beneath his pointer finger. “Personally, I think you like me way more than you admit.”
“Why would I care what you think?” you ask, highlighting another piece of text in your textbook. 
“Oh, you know,” you hear the sound of paper sliding across the desk. “Just this.”
You flick your eyes up to look at the paper. You roll your eyes again, thoroughly bored, when you realise it’s just a printed out email. What point is he trying to make? You’re ready to tell him to take his irrelevant piece of paper away along with himself when you notice the email address at the top of the page, your email address. Your cheeks heat immediately. 
“Where did you get that?” you snap, moving to grab the piece of paper. Jungkook is quicker though, whipping it out of your grasp and holding it in his hands. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts and you watch as he tucks the piece of paper back into his pocket. He grins at you, smug and disgustingly cocky and you want to push him off his chair. 
“It wasn’t me,” you feebly attempt to save face. You know exactly what that email is, and you curse Jimin for convincing you to write it. Though in all honesty, you had forgotten it existed. You’d written it months ago.
“If it wasn’t you, then who was it? I only know one Sailor2themoon,” Jungkook is leaning back in his seat, swinging on the back legs. His arms fold over his chest, and the veins in his forearms stand out. God, you hate him.
“It was Jimin,” you grimace, sending a mental apology to your best friend for throwing him under the bus. 
“Wow, matching usernames? What a friendship,” Jungkook scoffs and tips forward again. He rests his arms on the desk, closing the gap between you as he leans over. Your eyes follow the movement against your will before you snap them up to his face again. Jungkook smirks evilly.
“I didn’t send it,” you grit out. Of course you had sent it, you’d wanted to show support for your favourite writer, but that was before you knew he was your annoying classmate as well as your childhood enemy and noisy downstairs neighbour. 
“Then who did?” he asks, still smiling triumphantly at you. He leans back again, balancing in that stupid chair, and a part of you hopes that he tips back just far enough to go clattering from his seat to the floor.
“I don’t know, maybe yourself to fuel your ego?”
“I don’t need to fuel my ego when I have you to do it for me,” he replies, voice dripping with glee. You’re about ready to smack him with your textbook but before you can reply, the library assistant interrupts your whisper-fight with Jeon Satan.
“Excuse me, we’ve had some complaints and have to ask that if you aren’t going to be quiet, you leave the library,” you look up at the sound of the passive aggressive voice to find the short assistant glaring at you, sniffing snootily. 
“It’s fine, I’m leaving,” Jungkook grins charmingly, standing up from his seat and shooting a wink in your direction. “See you later.”
You clutch your pen so hard, you could have sworn you heard a little cracking sound.
Stupid Jeon Jungkook.
Tumblr media
“It was awful, Jimin. He read my fanmail,” you groan.
“I’m sorry but I can’t take you seriously with those ears on,” Jimin giggles at your scowl and attaches another pin through the fabric of your outfit. You love giving Jimin opportunities to design. He enjoys it so much, and even though it’s slightly bitter sweet, and it reminds him of the fact that he couldn’t afford design school, it always puts him in a better mood. He gets a healthy glow, a slight pinkness to his cheeks, that only comes out when he designs. 
The only downside to being a living mannequin for Jimin, however, is that he had a tendency to stick you with the sharp pins. Multiple times. 
“Yeah, well, those things should come with a user manual,” you nod towards the pin cushion sitting on his wrist.Jimin grins at you, all innocence and wide brown eyes. You shake your head in disbelief. This demon.“And anyway, what’s wrong with the ears?” you ask. You had stolen them from his box full of cosplay materials before he started to tailor your outfit. That box of fabric is a gold mine. 
“They’re fluffy and have bells on,” he answers, a scrunch to his nose. 
“I’m Sango, you should fear me.”
“Sango doesn’t even have ears,” Jimin giggles, “but you do look positively badass.”
“Thank you, I know” you respond, batting your eyelashes in mock confidence. 
“And after Jungkook’s reaction to the suit, he’ll love this one,” Jimin comments, making you roll your eyes. 
“Jimin, we’ve been over this. I don’t want Jungkook to like the outfits,” you sigh, exasperated by his perseverance on the matter. “He doesn’t deserve to.” 
It feels like you’re constantly saying this. Maybe it’s to convince yourself too, because you absolutely do not like Jeon Jungkook and your brain needs to stop doubting that.
“Is that code for ‘I want him to fling me against a wall’?” Jimin asks.
“Minie! No,” you protest and embarrassment rises in your chest. 
“It’s not?” Jimin’s eyebrows are raised.
“I’ll admit that he’s physically not totally hideous,” you relent as Jimin places a pin through one of the pads at your shoulder. 
“Then why don’t you just get flung?” he asks and pins down the lapels on your pants.
“That would be like admitting defeat,” you explain. “Jimin, do you not understand the magnitude of my feud with the Wicked Artist of the West?” “Okay? Honestly? No. I don’t,” he answers and you sigh. You’re well aware it might seem a bit childish and definitely petty. But Jungkook just pushes every single one of your buttons. Just when you think he might not be horrendous, he says something that makes you want to scratch his eyes out. It’s a vicious circle of hate and barely there tolerance for his existence.
“Okay, I think I have everything pinned. You can take it off now,” Jimin says, stepping back to admire his work.
“I’m keeping the ears,” you tell him.
“Of course you are, they’re adorable.”
You wiggle out of the cosplay, doing your best not to displace any pins before handing it to Jimin. Underneath the Sango costume, you’re wearing your favourite anime meme shirt and it occurs to you that you have never felt weebier than you do right now. A weeby shirt underneath a cosplay outfit? With furry ears? You’ve peaked.
“Speaking of your weeby idol though, we need to update our theory board,” Jimin says, placing the outfit onto a hanger and sliding it gently onto the clothing rack of costumes in the corner. You let the idol comment slide – only Jimin can make fun of your fanmail predicament. 
“You are in no place to call someone weeby, Jiminie,” you scoff.
“Valid,” Jimin shrugs and carefully arranges the outfit on his work mannequin. “Hey, let’s watch Inuyasha tonight. I miss that furry bastard.”
Tumblr media
“I’m so full, I wouldn’t be able to move even if I wanted to,” you mutter, still spooning another lump of ice cream into your mouth.
“Mood,” Jimin responds, doing the same. You’re curled into Jimin’s side on the large sofa, squished into a corner because you enjoy nothing better than cuddling with Jimin. A family sized tub of ice cream rests between you both. 
This is your favourite place to be. Jimin is warm and soft and he makes you feel safe and protected. He genuinely feels like your home. You’ll never tell him that though, you have to grip onto your tsundere reputation as hard as you can. You would never hear the end of it from Jungkook if he found out you’re secretly soft. 
“I want one of those enchanted necklaces,” you say as you watch Kagome send Inuyasha toppling over his feet once again.
“How would you even use that?”
“I’d make Jungkook faceplant every five seconds with a simple command,” you respond as if it was obvious.
“Oh my god, you’re Kagome,” Jimin gasps.
“I am not Kagome.”
“You so are,” he grins “and Jungkook is Inuyasha.”
“One, you are so wrong, and two, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult Inuyasha in the worst possible way.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Kagome,” he teases and you pout at him.
“Will you stop bullying me so we can cuddle again?”
“If you admit your feelings for Jungkook.”
“You are one tiny, evil man,” you narrow your eyes at Jimin.
“I know, I learned from the best,” he smiles at you, the grin reaching his eyes and showcasing just how heart warming his eye-smile is. He lets you snuggle back into his warm chest, regardless.
“What are we gonna do when we finish Inuyasha?” you mumble against his chest.
“It’s time for our annual Ouran High Host Club marathon soon.”
“We’ll have to stock up on nikumans…” you remind him.  
“We’ve run out of Hello Pandas too,” he answers. 
“I bought five boxes last week?” 
“Tae… might have… gotten to them,” Jimin admits slowly.
“Heresy,” you scoff, Taehyung’s a bottomless pit when it comes to snacks. Jimin laughs and almost topples off the couch.
A few moments of comfortable silence passes. 
“I miss this,” you mumble, staring at the TV as the Inuyasha theme song plays. Usually you and Jimin would be singing along, but today there’s a slight melancholy feel to the air. 
“I know, me too,” he says, instinctively pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But you’re always my best friend even when we can’t spend much time together.”
“You are too,” you look up at him and he grins. Then, you both take a deep breath and...
Tumblr media
“When are they ever going to fix the god damn elevator?” you huff, trying to keep a grip on your side of the 5kg bag of cat food. You drag it up the stairs slowly, wheezing lightly against the pull in your lower back. Thank god you’d torn Jimin away from the pet store before he bought half the shop. To say you’re grateful he didn’t buy the cat tree is an understatement. Sweat sticks to your skin, warming you uncomfortably under your winter coat and scarf. You honestly feel like dying. 
“No idea, but I’ve been bested by these stairs one too many times,” Jimin responds, tripping over a step as he climbs the stairs backwards, the too-narrow staircase not allowing for you both to climb the stairs side by side. The ascent is slow, painful and tedious. It’s Mt. Everest - University Edition. You walk slowly, one step at a time hoping that no one would come up behind you to rush you up the stairs. Worse, what if they tut passive aggressively at you both until you make enough room for them to squeeze past?
“Just remember, the cat is worth it,” you tell Jimin, whose cheeks are red with effort.
“What cat?”
You jump at the voice behind you, grappling with your side of the bag and almost dropping it onto your toes. Yoongi leans against the bannister as you and Jimin come to a staggering halt. 
“Cat? Who said anything about a cat?” Jimin panics in the moment and you stifle a giggle when his eyes widen comically, in fake innocence. 
“The humongous bag of cat food speaks for itself, don’t you think?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow which disappears under his thick woollen beanie. “If there’s a cat, I want to meet it,” he continues. “I like cats.”
You look him up and down, trying to judge just how serious he might be about this. He looks at you, tilts his head in question and you sigh.
“Follow us,” you push Jimin to carry on walking, “but don’t breathe a word about this to anyone. Especially not your weeby roommate. He doesn’t deserve cats.”
“Who, Jungkook?” Yoongi’s nose scrunches. “It’s not like he won’t find out anyway.”
“How’s that?” Jimin wheezes, finally making it to the top of the stairs and dropping his side of the bag. 
“He finds out everything eventually,” Yoongi explains. “Your screen name, was it?” he nods in your direction.
“We don’t talk about that,” you sniff disapprovingly almost as though you can dispel the bad memory with a shake of your head.
“Trust me, he does.”
You roll your eyes at that. Of course, he does. 
“Do you want to meet the cat or not?” you ask, prompting Yoongi to hold his hands up in surrender.
“Lead the way.”
Tumblr media
“Who is he and what did he do with Yoongi?” you mutter to Jimin as you watch Yoongi stretch out on the floor in front of the black cat, cooing and scratching its fluffy head.
“I have no idea but you’re going to have some explaining to do to Jungkook when he finds out we broke his roommate.”
“Where did you find him?” Yoongi asks, barely looking away from the kitten.
“Outside by the dumpsters looking for food,” you explain. “We took him to the vet and he doesn’t have a chip, we think he’s a stray.”
“What’s the little guy’s name?” he questions, finally looking up at you and Jimin, a gleeful grin stretched across his face. You’re sure it’s the most you’ve ever seen Yoongi smile.
“Doesn’t have one yet,” Jimin tells him.
“Prince Coleus,” Yoongi decides for you. “Like the plant.” 
Of course, only a PhD in botany would come up with something like ‘Coleus’ as a name. You smile.
“Prince Coleus it is,” you nod. 
“He’s pretty big,” Yoongi coos and reaches for the mouse toy that sits atop a bundle of blankets next to the sofa. 
“The vet said he’s barely 6 months old,” you explain.
“What a poor baby,” Yoongi pouts, and kisses the kitten’s head softly. “Are you keeping him?”
“We want to,” Jimin sighs and  sits on the floor, leaning his back against the other sofa, “but I’m allergic.” 
“Ah,” Yoongi nods, but you can tell that he’s disappointed. You approach and sit next to Jimin, your knee bumps into his thigh and you lean against him a little. 
“Who knew Yoongi is a cat person,” you remark quietly to Jimin as Yoongi pulls the toy across the floor in a serpentine motion, Prince Coleus jumps after it, his short legs trying to claw at the little knitted mouse figure on the end. 
“He’ll go to a good home though, right?” Yoongi surprises you when he speaks, still fondly smiling at Prince Coleus as they play.
“Yeah, of course,” you attempt to comfort him, though you share the same worry, as you do every time you take in a stray. Yoongi sits back as Prince Coleus rolls around a tiny rattling ball. You all sit like that for a moment, watching as the kitten prances around the living room floor. 
“He’ll be okay,” Jimin reassures both you and Yoongi. Prince Coleus gets ready to pounce on the toy again, when he decides that he has exerted too much effort, and instead settles himself on the rug, mouth opening in a tiny yawn. 
“He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks and picks up the blankets, arranging them around Prince Coleus who decides, rather than laying on the floor, he’d rather crawl into Yoongi’s arms. Yoongi looks proud when he sits back, and Prince Coleus is barely visible amongst the blankets that he holds, his twitching ears the only giveaway that he’s there. 
They stay like that for a while, Yoongi holding the cat and sitting remarkably still, engaging in a whispered conversation about the other cats that you and Jimin often take in. The room starts to darken, blue hues and indigo strokes brush across the sky until night falls entirely. You reach across the table to turn on the lamp, stretching as far as possible without moving, hoping not to disturb the feline royalty. 
“I should probably head home,” Yoongi whispers, trying his hardest not to wake the sleeping cat. You stand up to see him out. However, it’s like Prince Coleus already senses Yoongi’s absence, big orange eyes opening as he wiggles his way out of the blankets. He leaps down from the sofa, old enough to know how to jump, and wraps himself around Yoongi’s leg.
“I think he likes me,” Yoongi smiles down at the cat fondly. Prince Coleus clearly bonded with Yoongi. Ungrateful bastard, you think, amused by his behaviour. All Yoongi did was play with him, you’re the one that lugged 5 kilos of cat food up a thousand stairs. You shake your head fondly when Coleus lets out a soft meow and curls his tail around Yoongi’s leg. 
“Yeah,” you nod, sharing a look with Jimin that conveys an entire conversation.
“Hey, Yoongi,” Jimin interrupts him as he pets the kitten.
“Why don’t you take him?”
“What?” his eyes are wide, like the thought had never even crossed his mind. “Are you sure?” he asks, smile stretching onto his face.
“Of course,” Jimin grins. “We’ll know he’s going to a good home.”
“Hear that, buddy?” Yoongi coos, picking Prince Coleus up once more. “You’re coming home with me.”
Your heart warms seeing how happy Yoongi is with his new cat and decide for sure that lugging the cat food all the way up the stairs was definitely worth it. 
Tumblr media
“Okay, please tell me you’ve got some good news?” you whine and melt into Namjoon’s counter as soon as you step into the manga store. Droplets of rain pearl down your neck and you shiver against the cold. 
The familiar smell of fresh books and Namjoon’s jasmine tea wrap around you in a blanket of familiar comfort that relaxes your muscles immediately. After the day you’ve had, the manga store really is the last resort to save the day. Jeon Jungkook really needs to suffocate on his hentai body pillow already. 
“You’re dribbling on my counter,” he replies and shoves your face off the cheap wood. You frown at him, and he’s clearly not impressed as he looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. You can’t help being reminded of the dry librarian from the infamous Night At The Library. 
“Joonie, please,” you wail dramatically, when he doesn’t seem to mellow.
Namjoon huffs, exasperated and tells you to wait a moment. He disappears into the storage room, or as you like to call it: weeb heaven. 
You’ve always liked Namjoon. With his soft clothes, the gentle giant vibe he exudes and his sweater paws, he’s just too gentle a soul. The green jumper he’s wearing brings out the warm brown of his freshly dyed hair. It suits him, you think. You lean over the counter, peering into the storage room as your wet parka drip drops onto Namjoon’s spreadsheets. He putters around in the back, the occasional grunt and swear travels through the empty store as he digs out a huge box. 
“I got this new shipment from VIZ-” your squealing drowns out the rest of his sentence. Namjoon steps through the door again, a heavy cardboard box in his arms. He strains under the weight of it and huffs when he slumps it onto the table. “I don’t get your love for shoujo.”
“It’s the purest genre of manga okay,” you defend. 
“Hey, you don’t have to defend yourself to me. I’m supplying your addiction here,” Namjoon grumbles and lets you sift through the neat rows of gorgeous mangas in the box. The shiny covers seem to glow divinely. 
“Oh, they’re beautiful,” you marvel outloud, talking to no one in particular as you pick up a couple of volumes, holding one in each hand. 
“Told you,” Namjoon sing-songs, a pleased – and slightly cocky – grin on his face. 
“Namjoon, you’re a legend,” you tell him. “A living, manga supplying legend.”
“Please do keep the compliments coming, I love an ego boost.”
“Whatever would I do without you?” you sigh dramatically with a giggle, continuing to pick through the different Akatsuki No Yona volumes that you don’t yet have. 
“Use online suppliers?” 
“Never!” you respond theatrically as you place the manga on the counter. You continue to sift through, trying not to get tempted by the Fruit Basket volumes you see. “Now what’s been going on with you lately, any Namjoon news?” 
You lean across the counter again, your drenched coat pressing against the wood. Namjoon shoots you a look and you smile innocently, moving your arms from the now damp counter. 
“Nothing much, really,” he hums, tapping distractedly at the keys of the cash register. “I had a date the other night though.”
You can tell that he’s trying to be flippant, but the bounce in his shoulders and the bright look on his face betrays him. He smothers a smile, excitement pulling at his lips, and the tops of his ears glow pink. 
“Never fucking mind mangas! Tell me everything,” you insist as you shove the box of shiny volumes to the side to devote your full attention to Namjoon. 
Namjoon’s shoulders hunch over shyly. “His name’s Hoseok,” He admits quietly, and you watch as his ears burn. 
“Okay, my dude, I’m gonna need more here,” you snort gently at your friend. 
“He’s just- he’s really nice and like? Funny? And just? Really extroverted?” Namjoon says, ending each statement like it’s a question. He picks at the corner of his accounting journal. “I don’t know, he’s different. Really open about himself, I like that.” 
He shrugs his shoulders almost noncommittally. You smile knowingly and poke his cheek gently.
“You like him,” you singsong teasingly and watch as Namjoon laughs, embarrassed and his cheeks darken with colour. It’s endearing to see him so whipped for this guy, it’s a new side of Joon, less reserved, more open and you like seeing that change in him. 
“He sounds really great,” you say and watch as Namjoon nods absentmindedly, like he’s lost in memory. “Where did you guys go?”
“He took me to the cutest little kBBQ place and we ate so much food and then he walked me home,” he tells you, bouncing in place a little. He rings up the manga you hand him, having decided to go with Akatsuki no Yona afterall. “We talked for hours, it was incredible.”
“Please tell me you’re seeing him again?” you plead. “I’m living vicariously through you, here.”
“We’re going out tomorrow night,” Namjoon grins, and reaches beneath the counter, pulling out a paper bag. He places your manga in it and slides it across to you. 
“Namjoon! That’s so great! I’m seriously so happy for you!” you grin and unzip your backpack, reaching for your wallet. 
“Thanks,” he smiles bashfully. “The manga’s $10, I added my discount for you.”
“Namjoon, you are a wonderful man,” you respond and place your credit card against the reader. 
“I try,” he laughs, and you shove your manga into your backpack, paper bag crinkling as it squeezes in amongst your textbooks and binders. You swing your bag up and onto your shoulders as the machine prints your receipt and the bell above the door tinkles, announcing the arrival of another customer. You take it as your cue to let Namjoon get back to work. 
“Make sure you text me after your date tomorrow, I want to know how it goes! I’m invested,” you tell him as you prepare to leave. 
“I’ll give you all of the details.”
“I expect nothing less,” you warn and he laughs.
“See you!” he calls and you wave as you leave the warmth of the manga store behind, heading back out into the torrential downpour of rain.
Tumblr media
previous | next
› MASTERLISTS; jooneos | series
Tumblr media
18 notes · View notes
jjiimin · 2 months ago
poetry of the stars (preview)
Tumblr media
➳ synopsis: yn and her family are social pariahs a year after her older brother confessed to the murder of his secret girlfriend, who was also her best friend. with normalcy as a thing of the past, all yn wants is to work through the summer and save up enough money to leave her town forever. but what happens when the job she gets hired for means working alongside the brother of the friend she lost?
➳ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, best friend's brother au
➳ warnings: themes of murder, cheating, and abuse; written in first person pov
➳ book inspo: even if i fall by abigail johnson
➳ word count (for the preview): 1.4k
➳ author's note: this fic will be posted in a few weeks. i'm hoping around the end of april. if you would like to be tagged when it's posted, please reply to this post or send me a message. fair warning, this fic may not be for everyone. if you do choose to read it, however, please let me know what you think of the story! happy reading~!! :]
Every morning, there is a loud banging at the door.
It starts sometime after sunrise and lasts about five minutes. Most days, no one in my family pays much attention to it. My father, who lives in the guest room now, wears earplugs to bed while my mother is usually too lost in her own thoughts to notice any sort of sound. My little brother throws a pillow over his head and pretends he doesn’t hear it.
I don’t do any of these things.
Instead, I grab my brown cardigan and tiptoe downstairs, careful in skipping the third to last step. It’s creaky, and also a reminder of the person who said he would fix it eventually.
When I get to the front door, I only open it a smidge. Just enough to inspect the damage before I have to deal with it. Today’s weapon is two dozen eggs. Large, white eggs from the only grocery store in this town. The way the eggs splatter against the blue of our door would be perfect for an art exhibit in New York City. They would call it broken eggs upon a door and charge people to see it.
It’s funny because I get to see it for free.
I take a step back from the door once I realize the boys are gone. Then, I head to the kitchen for some paper towels and an extra bag. The weather is warm, and hinting at a slight breeze. Customary for mid-spring. Most people in the neighbourhood should be out for walks, but they aren’t. It may have to do with the fact that not many people live around here anymore. A year ago, after the indictment, most of our neighbours sold their properties and moved away. Whether it was the reporters who drove them away or the fact that they were living on the same street as the family of a murderer, I don’t know.
“What a waste of perfectly good eggs,” I mumble to myself as I gather the broken eggshells then use a paper towel to wipe up the liquid. “They should have stuck to paint balloons.” It takes me a few minutes to wipe up the best to my satisfaction. When I’m done, I tie the small bag.
Just as I’m standing up, another egg comes flying my way, pelting me square on the back. I stagger forward from the impact, grabbing the edge of the door to keep myself upright.
“Murderers!” A familiar voice yells, followed by the pelting of about a dozen more eggs. I don’t do the smart thing and race inside. What I do instead is crouch on the floor, hiding behind one of my mother’s old potted plants.
“Kill yourselves!”
“Shameless! You all deserve to be in prison!”
“You raised a murderer!”
“You call yourselves human?!”
There are about four or five voices in total. I recognize all of them as classmates. Boys I’ve known since I was five years old. We went to the same schools all our lives. Played tag and hide-and-go-seek during recess. Skinned our knees together. Made fun of our teachers together. Grew up together.
And perhaps this is what hurts the most. That while knowing me, and growing up with me, they still choose to do what they do to me. I don’t know why I’m so hurt by it. It’s been a year. I should be used to it by now. But does anyone ever get used to something like this?
After another minute or so, the pelting dies down alongside the aggressive voices. I know I should stay in hiding. It would be better that way. I should wait for them to leave so I can finish cleaning up. Our door is once again covered in a gooey mess of eggs, and I need more paper towels.
Counting to three inside my head, I squeeze my hands into fists and slowly rise to my feet. I try not to look at the boys as they stand on the road, watching me, but I can’t help it. For a brief moment, my eyes flicker to where they shake their heads at me then start walking away.
Except one.
The only one whose voice I never heard. The only one I know best from the lot. The only one who continues staring even as the other boys turn their backs to me.
As soon as our eyes meet, I lower my gaze. I used to dream about the day he would look at me for longer than a few seconds. I just never imagined it would be in this context.
I hear one of the boys shout his name and that’s when I look up again. He’s walking towards me now, up the short flight of stairs, until we are face-to-face.
I don’t know what I expected him to do, being so close to me, but perhaps, just like everything else today, I should have known what would come next in the sequence of events.
The boy I have known all my life reaches inside the pocket of his sweater and pulls out an identical white egg. His eyes are dark. Unreadable, even though I used to be able to read them so well. He used to say, YN, you’re the only one who knows me and that’s why I like you best, which always resulted in his sister smacking him on the arm for teasing me. Don’t listen to him, YN. He’s being an idiot, she would tell me.
But later, when I left their home and returned to my own, I would lay in bed with my eyes closed and pretend he really meant it. That I knew him. That he likes me best. That he sees me as more than just his little sister’s best friend. I wanted to believe I had an advantage over all the other girls vying for his attention. I liked thinking I was special to him.
That was before, and this is now.
The last time he teased me was the last time we spoke. Even at the funeral, it was his best friends who threw me out, not him. He hadn’t said a word back then. A face of stone. Grim, emotionless. He was grieving in his own way, unlike his parents who cried all through the service.
Quiet eyes boring into mine, the boy of my childhood dreams raises an arm above my head then cracks the egg between his fingers. As the cracked shell and liquid pour down my hair, I don’t break eye contact and neither does he. I watch the way his jaw sets and his lips thin out. He keeps his eyes on me while the egg runs down my cheeks and drips onto my cardigan.
And perhaps I am shameless because I whisper his name.
A smirk hints at his lips for a fraction of a second before he replaces it with a frown. Barely there before it’s gone again. Shaking his hand out, he flicks away the remainder of the egg and stands back, distancing himself from me. I fist my hands again and keep them tight by my side.
“Enjoy your breakfast, YN,” he jests, not a trace of a smile to be found. “Sorry, I forgot to bring the salt and pepper.”
When he leaves, I count to three again before reaching up to touch the broken egg flowing through my strands. The yellowy fluid is rancid. He used a rotten egg. I don’t know why this adds to the pain.
Turning on my feet to watch him walk down the road to meet his friends, I think back to the first time we met.
I was seven, and he was eight.
I was far too shy back then to say hello to anyone at the park. But his sister wasn’t, and neither was he. Hyeryung and her brother were social butterflies. The best of friends who had no trouble befriending me.
I was sitting in the sandbox trying to build a castle when she asked for my name. Once I told her, she ran to grab her brother and forced him to say hello to me. And when he did, my little seven-year-old heart felt like it was soaring. It felt like the best feeling in the world. I knew right then and there that this boy would mean something special to me.
Later, almost a week later, Hyeryung came over to my house for the first time. That was the weekend my older brother was having his eleventh birthday party. I didn’t know it back then but that was the day Hyeryung’s own little seven-year-old heart soared, too.
. . .
+! please let me know what you think so far! i hope it's interesting! my ask box is always open :')
112 notes · View notes
smaubts · 3 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
call me baby
part 8. call me baby | next
— masterlist
a.n. if you want to be tagged comment under this post 😽😽 ALSO give me feedback and I'll give u a cookie i baked today 😌✨
tag list: @tremendouspirateninja @thecatinserendipity @kirbykook @jdkook @symmetricaleyeliner @draqonsblues @moon-and-solar-smiles @clockworkrosea @kirakombat @waddlebby @clownward @anpanman-sonyeondan @psiphidragon @secretlycrazyhummingbird @ichigou-ukiyo @tricethecharm @bulletproofjamjar @kelitt @aizuwusho @the-voids-going-to-get-us @thelifeof-electra-heart @chunghamor @unadulteratedlyunique @arya-di-angelo @fictionsbitch @azeugirdor @kaithezaftig @justmewondering-recs @japzalileo @lochness-butmakeitsexy @fromthedt @tae165 @mcusuperfreak @ggukkieland @94ser0da @youurkryptonite @jungkookspromise @loveyoongles @themoonlookslonely @nxtrogers @taegijns @simpinforyoongi @melindagrace31 @zaedynnn @ilillyshadow @deleteidentity @min-yus @notmontae97 @lidda @wallflowertori
176 notes · View notes
smaubts · 4 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
call me baby
part 6. forbidden name | next
a.n. if you want to be tagged comment on this post anD give me feedback and I'll give u kisses 😽
ALSO I know it's late but I hope you enjoy 😽
tag list: @tremendouspirateninja @thecatinserendipity @kirbykook @jdkook @symmetricaleyeliner @draqonsblues @moon-and-solar-smiles @clockworkrosea @kirakombat @waddlebby @clownward @anpanman-sonyeondan @psiphidragon @secretlycrazyhummingbird @ichigou-ukiyo @tricethecharm @bulletproofjamjar @kelitt @aizuwusho @the-voids-going-to-get-us @thelifeof-electra-heart @chunghamor @unadulteratedlyunique @arya-di-angelo @fictionsbitch @azeugirdor @kaithezaftig @justmewondering-recs @japzalileo @lochness-butmakeitsexy @fromthedt @tae165 @mcusuperfreak @ggukkieland @94ser0da @youurkryptonite @jungkookspromise @loveyoongles @themoonlookslonely @nxtrogers @taegijns @simpinforyoongi @melindagrace31 @zaedynnn @ilillyshadow @deleteidentity @min-yus @notmontae97 @lidda @wallflowertori
197 notes · View notes
smaubts · 4 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
call me baby
part 5. saying no | next
a.n. if you want to be tagged comment on this post ✨😌✨nd give me feedback 😌✨✨
tag list: @tremendouspirateninja @thecatinserendipity @kirbykook @jdkook @symmetricaleyeliner @draqonsblues @moon-and-solar-smiles @clockworkrosea @kirakombat @waddlebby @clownward @anpanman-sonyeondan @psiphidragon @secretlycrazyhummingbird @ichigou-ukiyo @tricethecharm @bulletproofjamjar @kelitt @aizuwusho @the-voids-going-to-get-us @thelifeof-electra-heart @chunghamor @unadulteratedlyunique @arya-di-angelo @fictionsbitch @azeugirdor @kaithezaftig @justmewondering-recs @japzalileo @lochness-butmakeitsexy @fromthedt @tae165 @mcusuperfreak @ggukkieland @94ser0da @youurkryptonite @jungkookspromise @loveyoongles @themoonlookslonely @nxtrogers @taegijns @sugarimagines @melindagrace31 @zaedynnn @ilillyshadow @deleteidentity
224 notes · View notes
smaubts · 4 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
call me baby
part 4. eliminate facts | next
a.n. if you want to be tagged comment on this post 😌✨ and give me feedback and I'll give you kithes
tag list: @tremendouspirateninja @thecatinserendipity @kirbykook @jdkook @symmetricaleyeliner @draqonsblues @moon-and-solar-smiles @clockworkrosea @kirakombat @waddlebby @clownward @anpanman-sonyeondan @psiphidragon @secretlycrazyhummingbird @ichigou-ukiyo @tricethecharm @bulletproofjamjar @kelitt @aizuwusho @the-voids-going-to-get-us @thelifeof-electra-heart @chunghamor @unadulteratedlyunique @arya-di-angelo @fictionsbitch @azeugirdor @kaithezaftig @justmewondering-recs @japzalileo @lochness-butmakeitsexy @fromthedt @tae165 @mcusuperfreak @ggukkieland @94ser0da @youurkryptonite @jungkookspromise @loveyoongles @themoonlookslonely @nxtrogers @taegijns @sugarimagines @melindagrace31 @zaedynnn
209 notes · View notes
smaubts · 4 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
call me baby
part 1. lying RAT | next
a.n. if you want to be tagged comment on this post 🤪
tag list: @tremendouspirateninja @thecatinserendipity @fearinsideme @kirbykook @jdkook @symmetricaleyeliner @draqonsblues @moon-and-solar-smiles @clockworkrosea @kirakombat @waddlebby @clownward @anpanman-sonyeondan @psiphidragon @secretlycrazyhummingbird @ichigou-ukiyo @tricethecharm @bulletproofjamjar @kelitt @aizuwusho @the-voids-going-to-get-us @thelifeof-electra-heart @chunghamor @unadulteratedlyunique @arya-di-angelo @fictionsbitch @azeugirdor @kaithezaftig @justmewondering-recs @japzalileo @lochness-butmakeitsexy @fromthedt
243 notes · View notes
zibermuda · 6 months ago
ego killer (1) | jjk
Tumblr media
Summary — Campus fuck-boy and notorious flirt can’t keep his eyes off you, but you’re unfazed by his remarks. That all changes when he takes it too far at a party and you’ve officially had enough. 
Genre — smut (e2l, fuck-boy!jk, nerdy!reader)
Words — 11,292
Warnings — unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), tongue fucking, deep dicking, dirty talk, thigh riding, fingering, tongue sucking, breath play, biting, licking, hair pulling, hickeys, jks dad is an asshole, mentions of abuse and alcohol consumption, swearing
one | two | three/final
Tumblr media
masterlist || request
Tumblr media
Just as you’re convinced your day couldn’t possibly get any worse, an unwelcome student decides to pull up the seat next to you. Out of every other chair in this one-hundred-plus lecture theatre, Jeon Jungkook just has to sit here. He’s the notorious campus fuck-boy, ladies’ man and everything else that comes with looking like that; dark, wavy hair, pretty eyes, and body proportions out of this world. You won’t deny that he’s attractive, but looks like that only cause trouble and you have a squeaky-clean reputation to maintain. 
“Morning, gorgeous.” He gazes at your face as he awaits a response, but you decide it’s in your best interest to ignore him.
Huge mistake!
Your silence ignites something in him and he makes it his mission to get some kind of reaction. Anything. Maybe a little smile, a laugh, or even a classic eye-roll.
“Playing hard to get. I like it.”
This is so very like him. If he’s not on the receiving end of attention, he convinces himself that there’s an ulterior motive. Your reasoning; you hate him with your whole mind, body, and soul, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck about his shallow compliments, OR if he’s nearing 6ft, OR if he’s the president of multiple social, theatre, and fitness clubs, AND has the record for the highest number of members in a non-educational club! No, you couldn’t care less!
Out of the handful of ridiculous names he’s given his clubs, one has been titled ‘GAINS’ — Gym and Important Nutrition Society. Classic, right? But, despite the negative feelings you have toward him and everything else he does, other students seem to love him. His toned biceps and thick thighs make a very compelling ‘join us’ statement, too.
In contrast and in the good name of education, you formed a marketing club and handed yourself the president badge. And, ever since then, you’ve been doing your bit as an official influencer to students who actually want to learn something from college.
“I can see your panties, by the way.” He adds and you want to drop dead from humiliation. Scratch that. You want to send a pencil through his eye socket for being such a pervert!
An embarrassed heat threatens to crawl up the side of your neck at his observation. Your skirt isn’t even that short! He’s just a boy with a huge ego, eager eyes and a dirtier mouth. But, to save yourself from further humiliation, you tug the fabric down your thighs and tightly cross your legs until the circulation of blood in your legs becomes a little unbalanced. 
“Hey, I wasn’t complaining. You’re hot as hell.” His eyes wander down the length of your bare legs. It’s so obvious that he’s checking you out. He’s practically leaning all the way back in his chair to get a good look. “Even if you wear Hello Kitty panties.”
Oh my god! Please shut the fuck up!
He’s a nuisance for the rest of the lecture; bantering with nearby students, etching explicit imagery on the desk with the tip of a pen, and doodling on the corner of your page when you’re too busy looking up front to notice. The only time you pay him any real mind is when he taps his sneaker against your ankle. He apologises with a small smile each time, but he’s definitely doing it on purpose. 
It doesn’t stop there. He keeps it up for many more days, which makes for a hellish week. You can barely tolerate lectures with this man-child actively scoping you out through the crowd of students just to sit next to you. It doesn’t even matter if the seat next to you already has an occupant. He just asks them to move. It’s humiliating.
It doesn’t stop there, either. Jungkook always finds a way to annoy you, whether it be copying your notes, going into extreme detail about his previous evening (who even has that much sex?) or (by far his favourite) dragging his eyes down the length of your legs. It doesn’t even matter that you’ve now opted for ill-fitted jeans. He’s already seen your legs and he knows they’re somewhere under all that denim.
“You partying tonight?” He slaps a bendy ruler against his thigh out of sheer boredom. There’s less than twenty minutes left of class. Just ignore him. “You’d look good in a bikini.”
Out of all the ludicrous things he’s said to you over the past week, this one sits relatively high on the list. So, it’s practically impossible to not shift your eyes and send a glare his way. He’s dressed in slightly baggy plaid pants, a black shirt and a denim jacket. If it weren’t for his crazy aura of confidence, he probably wouldn’t be able to make the outfit work.
“Cute.” He smiles at your less-than-intimidating expression.  
Calling you ‘cute’ is something he does painstakingly often; when you frown and your nose scrunches a little, when you change up the font in which you take notes, and especially when you rest your chin against your palm. It's all very cute to him.
Today is Friday, which means a notorious campus party will take place later tonight. Campus parties occur on the regular and are organised by a different faculty each week. The Science Faculty organised last week’s rendezvous, but it didn’t exactly follow community guidelines. Science students dumped a fuck-ton of urine-indicator dye in the swimming pool to weed out the pool-pissers, set off a dozen fireworks down the dormitory hallway, and painted a few doors with glow-in-the-dark paint. Fortunately, nobody was injured, but a few were embarrassed by the piss detection and others were annoyed at their glowing door. Generally, you try to stay out of it.
“Come on, Hello Kitty.” He leans his elbow on the desk and watches you watch him. You hadn’t cared to notice it before, but he has a tattoo of a eucalyptus leaf running down the side of his hand. “You don’t wanna talk to me?”
He can keep prying all he wants, but you’re not going to entertain him. He’ll get bored eventually. That's generally how the mind of a child works.
If you're not spending your time sat in the library, reading romance novels, or sipping on flavoured water, you're lingering in the Student Guild. So, that’s exactly where you head after said class from hell. Within the building are a variety of pop-up food and drink stands, but your go-to is the fruit juice stand, mainly because the guy who runs it is invested in hearing your rants and handing out advice like he’s fifty years older than you. He’s not. He graduated only last year.
“Give me the strongest drink you have.” You slap your palms against the counter and breathe a deep sigh of exhaustion. "I'm in dire need."
“Well.." Seokjin, said 50-year-old-but-21-year-old-graduate, rummages around in a crate full of fresh fruit and vegetables. He seems to enjoy his side-job, but you would be bored to death if you had to stick fruit in a blender for hours on end. "..Pineapple juice should do the trick."
Your eyes wander from the produce to the nearby green, where Jungkook is bantering and being obnoxiously loud with his friends. They've scuffed the grass by purposely digging their heels into the earth and by tackling each-other to the ground.
If there's one thing to note about Jungkook and his ridiculous lineup of friends, it's that they have zero filter or respect for private property. Many, many stories have been tossed around campus depicting their idiotic rendezvous; spraying the chancellors office door with silly string, leaving an entire roast chicken in one of the boys toilets, and even climbing on top of the campus clock tower at fuck-o-clock in the morning.
Jungkook isn't the brightest student, but he did try to best (to an extent) to get into college. His problem is apparent; he got in, so he stopped putting in effort and resorted to turning in half-assed papers. If he doesn't pull his head out of his ass, he won't be graduating with any of those friends.
"Let me guess." Seokjin grabs an entire pineapple and throws it in the blender. Skin and all. "Tense stance and jaw, wide eyes, clenched fists.. You're thinking of Jungkook?"
"Aren't you supposed to cut the skin off?" You ask with a frown. 
"Precisely." He closes the lid and slams his palm on the plastic to ensure that it’s sat on tightly. "But, it's green and nutrients comes from green stuff. I'm sure it'll taste just fine."
Seokjin feels like he should exercise his duty of care and disclose every single detail about Jungkook. After all, he’s not as simple as everyone thinks he is. Nobody is. How can you possibly know what anyone is thinking at any given moment?
“You should be careful, by the way.” He adds as you’re glaring at the noisy group of boys. “He's complicated beyond belief."
"Complicated? In what way?"
"Mega daddy issues. Probably doesn't know how to treat a woman at all."
"I thought he lived on campus."
"Nah, he started that rumour so he wouldn't have to give out information on his family life."
"How do you know any of this?"
Seokjin sticks a straw and an umbrella in the juice before offering it to you. The colour is a slime green and doesn’t look appetising in the slightest. "I know a lot of things. Plus, I talk with the staff of this place. You’d be surprised what they’ll do for a coffee and a chocolate muffin."
You take a leisurely sip of the pineapple drink and savour the strange taste on your tongue. It’s a bit gritty, but it tastes alright. 
“Swirl it all around your mouth to get the full effect.” He nods toward the cardboard cup. “That’s what Mother Nature’s pussy tastes like.” 
“Charming. It’s definitely waking me up.”
“Good. That means you’ll have the energy to be at tonights party.” 
College parties aren’t college parties if a handful of graduates don’t join and encourage stupid and reckless behaviour. Seokjin isn’t that reckless, though. He usually stands by the table of drinks and internally rates peoples outfits. He works part-time at an accounting firm, so he’s become accustomed to categorising everything and anything that comes his way. 
Word has already spread in various group chats and through questionable emails sent by monitored student emails; the Business School students have had this weeks party baton handed to them. What could they possibly muster up? You might be thinking; a civil get-together at a local community hall, maybe a party in a wild flower field, or even a wine tasting event filled with discussions of the law and its loopholes. Nope! Persuading the sport staff to 'forget' to lock up the campus swimming pool is shockingly easy, and law students are pretty fucking good at being persuasive. 
“No, I can’t go. I have a date with Netflix.”
“Taehyung’s going.” 
And, that, ladies and gentlemen, is all that it takes for you to head back to your dormitory, throw on a bikini top, and add a little more mascara to your eyelashes. 
Kim Taehyung; the backbone of this campus, the star quarterback, the man behind symmetry, and your crush (five months going strong!). You can’t help but turn into an awkward, puberty-ridden pre-teen whenever he’s around. He once said ‘hey’ to you during a class and you responded with a very blunt ‘goodbye.’ And, despite your ever-growing crush, you've not done much to attract his attention. Your idea of dressing up is cuffing your jeans and tightening the laces of your sneakers. 
At 7:38PM, you make your way to the aquatic centre after spending an hour tinkering with your shorts and other externalities that nobody actually cares about. It’s not hard to locate — the blaring music and the crowd of drunk students are both a good indicator. The pool is 25 meters in length and lit by alternating rainbow LED lights, and a handful of students have already submerged in the water. You won't become one of them, you note. Swimming with a bunch of drunken students isn't your thing, nor is getting hypothermia. 
Cautiously, you sit yourself on the edge of the pool and dip your feet into the water. It's fucking freezing, but it cools off your hot skin and does an alright job at easing your racing thoughts. 
Why did you come, again? Oh, right. Kim Taehyung! He's nowhere to be seen. You've ran your eyes over every corner of this venue, but his broad shoulders haven’t greeted your eyes yet. What if he's not coming? This would be such a waste of time. Hang on a minute. Why are you revolving your night around some guy who probably doesn't even know your last name? God. Maybe you are an awkward, pre-teen with a big, fat, unreciprocated crush..
You're way too immersed in your own head to pay attention any other person, but someone has absolutely noticed you. For the sake of this story, it's none other than Jeon Jungkook. He’d previously been splashing water at his friends and play fighting; holding each-others heads underwater until someone taps out. It's madness and a recipe for homicide. 
You look good to him — you may look like a loner with a fear of water — but, you look so fucking good. Maybe it's the way your thighs are pressed up against the concrete, or the way the fabric of your bikini clings to your tits. Jungkook is a simple man. He sees a pretty girl; he wants her on his lap. He sees a great pair of tits; he wants them in his mouth. ‘Dirty’ doesn’t begin to describe the thoughts that linger in his mind. ‘Filthy’ is a lot closer, but not close enough. 
"Fancy seeing you here." He runs his fingers through his damp hair and lingers by your dangling feet. And, despite your bikini top being less than revealing, he proceeds to drag his eager eyes over the exposed skin. "I told you you'd look good in a bikini."
His body is exactly what you'd expect; completely athletic, toned to the core, and kissed many times by the sun. His skin is a golden honey tone all over and it makes you wonder what the fuck he wears (or doesn't wear) when he's out in the sun.
You're not sure whether to splash water at his face, literally drown him, or just roll your eyes and ignore him like you usually would. The latter seems like the safest bet, so you do just that.
“Loosen up, Hello Kitty.”
“Stop calling me that!”
He likes the sound of your voice. It’s evident by the shift in his expression and he way he slides his hands closer to your thigh. You can see the entirely of his tattoo now that his hands are resting on the concrete. Ink suits his skin, but that doesn’t make him any less of an idiot. 
“Hello Kitty.” He repeats only because you told him not to. That's just who he is and how he rolls. If somebody told him not to eat a rock, he would simply take a bite out of it. "Such a pretty kitty."
The eye-roll you produce has the potential to be in the ‘top 5 eye-rolls of all time.’ Any average person would take the hint, but Jungkook isn’t any average person. He’s 80% ego, 13% thick thighs, and 7% of the funds contributed to the local bingo residency hall. Yup, you read that right. When he’s bored of throwing toilet paper at peoples houses and pissing in mailboxes, he mingles with a group of retired elderly ladies. Flirts, if you will. Nobody knows why, but everybody knows he does it. 
"Haven't you got laps to swim or something?"
"I wanna swim laps in you."
"Genuine question: has that ever worked before?" You ask over the blaring music. "You have major issues."
“I see a pretty girl..” His eyes wander your figure with very little shame and it takes him a moment or two to return back to yours. His irritating addition follows in suit. "..And, I wanna make her mine.”
"That's a bad habit."
"You're a bad habit."
"Seriously? What are you? Nine?"
"Inches, yeah." You walked right into that one. “Wanna find out later?” 
You could spend your time glaring at him while he grins back, or you could stand up and head toward the wobbly table of drinks. There’s not much choice, though; copious amount of vodka and lemonade to chase it down. Students bring whatever alcohol they can find in their parents house or hidden in their dormitory closets. There’s not much to bring, though, because most students have to take a shot after writing an introduction to an essay.
Water droplets drip down his bare chest and it makes it near impossible for you to come up with another insult. How can someone that hot be such a fucking dick? It’s a very disappointing combination. 
Just as you open your mouth to say something worth your while, a stranger takes a seat next to you. Only, this symmetrical man with golden blonde hair is no stranger to you. This man is Kim Taehyung and his arm is now slung over your shoulder like he’s an old friend from middle school. Relax! Be cool!
“Annoying, right?” Taehyung nods toward a blasé looking Jungkook before returning his gaze toward your wide eyes. You feel like you could melt just from his pretty eyes, let alone from his touch. “He’s like a little puppy. Always begging for attention.”
Jungkook scoffs at the blatant jab. They’re not close friends, but they’re both extroverts beyond belief. Sparking up conversation is a trait that should be typed up on their resume. They’re professionals. “Speak for yourself.” 
And, with that, Jungkook splashes a little water at your bare thighs and heads back to his friends, where he continues to drown them. Once again, madness. 
In the meantime, Taehyung sparks up harmless conversation with you. He asks about college, your family, and even asks to compare hand sizes. It’s the most you’ve ever spoken, but it’s the best conversation you’ve ever had in your nineteen years of life. The entire interaction makes your head foggy and stuffs your insides with butterflies. He makes you laugh, he compliments you, and he doesn’t shy away from touching your hand or slinging his arm over your shoulder. You’re not sure what you did to warrant such attention, but you’d be a fool to complain about a single thing. 
Jungkook has been keeping an eye on the interaction and he catches the way Taehyung’s eyes dart to your lips when you speak. You, on the other hand, are too busy trying to avoid eye contact like a shy school-girl to realise. You’ve spent the past twenty minutes staring at your feet and throwing Taehyung the odd glance here and there. He finds it cute, but so does Jungkook. But, he wants you to be doing this dumb shit with him, not with Taehyung. He saw you first.
If Jungkook’s spider senses are right (they’re definitely tingling), then Taehyung has plans of hooking up with you tonight. That can’t happen on his watch. You’re like a rare gem and he wants to be the one to taint you, not quarterback Taehyung with two perfect parents and an even better GPA. Jungkook called dibs a long time ago, which is precisely why he wanders over to put a stop to whatever mischievous plan Taehyung has brewing. There will be no sex, no kissing, and no more flirting!
“You’re really pretty.” Taehyung says with a dashing smile contorting his mouth. “We should hang out more.” 
And, right on cue, he places a hand on your chin and tilts your face toward his. Your heart is in your throat at this point. Your dream man is about to kiss you. This cannot be happening, but it is. You can smell a little alcohol on his breath, but it’s the best thing you’ve ever smelled. His lips are inching closer and closer, his eyes are fluttering shut, it’s about to happen—
"Alright, love-birds." Jungkook slides his hand down the gap between your faces to put a hold to the kiss before it even has the chance to begin. You feel like you’ve just been edged. You feel like somebody has just taken away an essential organ. "Let's wrap it up!"
“What’s your problem?!” You raise your voice until it towers over the background music. Taehyung definitely doesn’t expect you to be so angry over this, even though you’ve always been a little strange whenever he’s had the chance to speak to you in the past. “Why do you keep ruining everything?!”
Jungkook grins at your discomfort and it sends you completely overboard. He doesn’t care about anything and it pisses you off so much. He has no regard for other people and it makes you want to sock him in the mouth as hard as you possibly can. But, you’re not the type to resort to physical violence, so you resort to your words. When used right, those are just as much of a weapon as your fists. 
“Really? You’re just gonna smile like an idiot?” 
“Yeah, it’s funny.” Jungkook taps the tip of your nose and smiles a little wider when you slap his hand away with a frown contorting your face. You’re so cute to him. He loves annoying you. “Don’t be so angry, Hello Kitty. It doesn’t suit you.” 
Taehyung isn’t as bothered as you are. He could kiss anyone he wants tonight, so this is nothing more than a small loss in his championship. Hey, there’s always next Friday! He already knows that his new-found interest in you is only because Jungkook is somehow interested, too. Whatever Jungkook wants, Taehyung will steal it right from his grasp. 
“I hate you so much!”
“I think you’re in love with me.” 
“You’re so full of yourself!”
The pair of you go back and forth bickering like an old, married couple until he drives you over the edge completely with an unnecessary innuendo. 
“Did you just say you wanna be full of me?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you!” You yell a little too abruptly. A lot of the party attendees are looking your way and muttering among themselves about the strange ordeal. Sure, many girls have yelled at Jungkook for being a dickhead after a one-night-stand, but none have yelled at him without having had sex. It’s intriguing. “You’ve slept with every fucking girl on campus and each of them know just how much of a dickhead you are! The only reason you still get laid is because you’re easy!”
Jungkook is still grinning, but his mind is wandering to a completely different place. Yeah, he’s slept with a lot of girls, and yeah, most have told him how much of a dick he is for cutting them off right after. What about it? 
“A toy!” You add with an unprecedented bitterness in your tone. “You’re a toy that girls like to use! Haven’t you noticed? You think you have every girl wrapped around your finger, but you’re so fucking wrong!” 
Your words hurt him more than he ever imagined they would, but he doesn’t know why. He feels like he’s just been asked to recite the Pythagorus Theorem with the way his mind is blanking and trying to cling onto something that makes even the slightest bit of sense. You’re smart, so he relies on copying your notes in class. You’re smart, so maybe you’re right about him and his outcast status on campus. He’s never felt this way before. It’s odd. It doesn’t feel nice.
Jungkook looks at you and then he looks around at all the bystanders. None of them look sympathetic in the slightest. In fact, a lot of them are nodding to one-another and enforcing your bitchy words. He has a reputation and everybody knows him by it. They don’t know him any deeper than that.
His expression shifts to one of confusion and he walks away with his head low and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He feels totally humiliated for the first time in his life and he doesn’t like the feeling at all. 
“That was a bit mean.” Taehyung notes, but he doesn’t truly care. He’s just here for the show. He couldn’t give two fucks about Jungkook. The two of them have never seen eye to eye. 
You nibble on your bottom lip and slowly start to regret everything you just screamed in anger. You want to gather all of those words and stuff them back in your mouth, but you can’t. You’ve really gone and done it now. You’ve managed to upset to most un-upsettable boy on campus. Congrats! 
Tumblr media
Jungkook doesn't sit next to you during lectures or annoy you like he usually would. He doesn't even look in your direction anymore. He seems like a completely different person, but he's not. He's just hurt and you've never experienced a hurt Jungkook before. You didn't even think he had the capabilities of feeling anything other than horny and a gym pump. Oh, how wrong you were and how awful of you to convince yourself that he doesn't feel as deeply as others. That was your first mistake. 
You feel horrible and you desperately want to apologise and clear this entire thing up. That has been exceedingly difficult, though, because he always leaves class a few minutes early to avoid you. He even stops showing up to parties just to lessen the chance of running into you. This madness continues for almost two weeks, and during that time, you type up at least twelve apology letters. None of them are good enough.
You can’t just send him an email. You doubt he’s ever checked his emails in his entire life. No, you need to put on a brave face and talk to him in person. But, it’s 9:31PM right now and his whereabouts is completely unknown to you. 
Someone ought to know where he is, right? Your theory is validated once you poke your head out of your dorm-room and ask two girls who are gossiping about something insignificant in the hallway. Their confident reply is ‘the gym’, so you muster up the courage to head there in the darkness of the evening.
Right by the entrance is a vending machine full of protein shakes and snacks, so you decide on getting him one. What’s an apology without a cheap gift? With a chocolate protein shake in hand and a fast-paced heart, you push open the doors of the gym and wander around like a lost child in a supermarket. It’s completed deserted. Of course it is! It’s nearing 10PM. But, one body with a head of dark, tousled hair is working the lat machine; Jungkook. He's tugging on the bar like he’s training to get the biggest back muscles in the world. He's definitely on his way there.
“Hey.” You clear your throat before speaking any further. “I got you this. It’s chocolate.”
“I don’t drink milk.” He says mid-pull, but his voice doesn’t hold the usual playfulness you’re conditioned to. You’ve officially pissed him off. “And, I don’t like chocolate.”
You frown at the blatant lie. “But, I saw you skull an entire carton of chocolate milk this morning.”
“Go away, Y/N.” His back muscles constantly flex through his white, sweat-slick shirt. It’s quite mesmerising. “Haven’t you got an essay to write or something? Miss goody two shoes."
The bench he’s seated at is long enough for a person to rest their back on and perform bench presses, so you take a seat at the very edge and fiddle with the chocolate shake. “Jungkook, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry and I was very wrong.”
“Don’t care.”
“And, I do think you’re hot.” You add in hopes it’ll persuade him further. “The hottest guy I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t care.” He repeats. “I don’t need you telling me what I already know.”
Alright. That doesn’t feel great. You now have an idea of how he felt all those days he spent hitting on you, only to receive a glare and an eye-roll in return. 
There has to be something else you can say that’ll redeem you. You can’t believe the chocolate milk hasn’t cut it, though. What's something that he really likes? Something he can't resist even if he tried?
"We can hang out, if you want. Y'know.. Get drunk and do something crazy."
"No, thanks."
Seriously? That had been his only agenda ever since he stepped foot in college. There has to be something else, but you can't think of what. You don’t know anything about the gym, about soccer, or about swimming teams. But then, your mind runs over every conversation you've ever had with him until something prominent sticks out. Hello Kitty.
“I’m wearing Hello Kitty panties.”
Out of everything that could come out of your mouth, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, which is precisely why the bar slips from his fingers and pings against the upper metal of the machine. A little perplexed and a little more horny, he then turns to you and drags his gaze from your thighs to your eyes. It makes your heart race and your head slightly foggy. “Oh, really? Prove it.”
“This is a public space.”
“That didn't stop you from ripping into me the other day."
"You pissed me off!" You retort with an accidental eye-roll. "You kept cock-blocking the entire night!"
"Cock-blocking." He repeats with growing amusement. "You think Taehyung's gonna fuck you?"
"I think I have a chance, yeah."
"That's really funny considering you're in here offering to show me your panties."
He's got you trapped in a really tight fucking corner. Fuck, does he think you're pathetic now? Are you that inexperienced and attention deprived that you'd feel no regret in flirting with more than one guy at a time? Was this his plan all along? To make you sink to rock bottom just for this very opportunity? The chances of that are below zero, you know that, but your mind won’t stop racing. He’s so fucking hot. You already know that. You’ve known that from day one, but there’s something exceedingly sexy about the way he’s looking at you right now. His brown eyes are so pretty, but they’re filled with a desire for you. 
"Show me, then." He leans closer to see how you'll react. Evidently, you're way to caught up in your racing thoughts and the new-found throbbing between your thighs to put a stop to this madness, so he moves close enough until his lips graze against your own. It’s a new sensation for the both of you. He might just eat you alive if you keep looking at him like that; like a good girl that’ll do anything he asks of you. "If someone gets to fuck you, it's gonna be me."
And, then he kisses you. It lacks any and all romantic qualities, but isn't lacking in tongue and lewd hand placement on your inner thigh. It's the most passionate kiss you've ever shared in your entire life, and when he pulls away, you're left breathless and wanting so much more. 
"Come on, pretty kitty. Be nice to me for once." He says lowly with those eyes trained on yours. "I'll fuck you whenever you want. It'll be our little secret."
Why the fuck are you actually considering having sex with Jungkook? He’s the guy you've despised since day one and the guy who has slept with most of the population. Also, why are you falling for his charms and the way he looks into your eyes? He knows what he's doing, but you don't. You’re so attracted to him right now and you can’t stop the feeling. Is it because the two of you are alone and he’s being a lot more intimate than he would during a lecture? 
"Whenever I want?" You ask so quietly, it might as well be a whisper. 
That's when he knows he has you right where you're supposed to be. "However you want. Can I touch you right now?"
The small nod of confirmation is all he needs to run two fingers along his tongue before dipping them beneath the waistband of your jeans. Never in a million years did you think you'd become one of those students; one who has no respect for the public and is willing to have sex in the literal campus gym. This can't be hygienic. This can't be safe, either. What if someone walks in and sees you sitting here with his hand down your pants and his lips on your neck? You'd never live it down. You might just die from embarrassment.
"Wait.." You put a stop to his fingers before they have the chance to run underneath your panties. It takes a lot of strength to do that. "Can we do this somewhere else?"
Somewhere else: in a private space, completely away from any lingering eyes, and away from the threat of being caught. You’re not completely void of morals and self respect. 
He doesn't complain at the request. In fact, all he does is follow you back to your dormitory while pinging your bra against your skin and placing goosebump-inducing kisses against the side of your neck. 
When you reach your dorm-room, the story shifts completely and he's quick to return his tongue to your mouth and place his hands on your ass. He’s wanted to do that for so long. The kiss is filthy, but it feels so fucking good. It’s slow, but saliva-dominated and led entirely by his tongue. It ignites everything in you, but, most importantly, arousal. He’s the best guy you’ve ever kissed in your life, but it’s not like you have a long history of candidates. His tongue knows exactly where to lick and he even takes your bottom lip between his teeth to elicit a reaction. 
His shirt comes off somewhere during the heated make-out session and your fingers find refuge raking through his soft hair. And, when he runs his hand up your hips and takes the fabric of your own shirt with him, you break the kiss to look down at yourself. That’s when it hits you; you’re about to be completely naked in front of him. You can’t help but feel timid. He’s definitely seen prettier girls with prettier bodies than you. 
"That shy girl shit is overrated." His voice is oozing with sex. He wants to prove that he wants you and he does by taking your hand and running your fingers down his pecs, down his defined abdomen, and then against the prominent outline of his cock straining against his sweatpants. "I want you so bad."
He means it and you believe him, but the lingering shyness doesn’t fade. He tugs off your shirt, unzips your jeans, and stands back to get a good look at you. It does nothing to help out your shyness. If anything, it makes it worse.
You’re wearing cotton panties with a cutesy Hello Kitty artwork printed on the front, and he really, really wants to fuck you so hard because of it. He can’t stop imagining the way you’d look if he were to run his cock against your face, but that’s for another day. He has a strong feeling that one night won’t be enough time with you. 
“You’re so fucking sexy.” With finesse, he pushes your back onto the mattress and reaches underneath you for the clasp of your bra. Surprise, surprise; he’s a fucking expert at taking it off. 
Maybe tonight will be the best sex you’ve ever had. Confidence plays such a huge roll in sex and he’s literally dripping in it. You’re definitely dripping in something, but it’s not confidence. He has an unprecedented amount of sex appeal, especially when he holds eye-contact, leans over you, and lets you look at his toned body. He knows he’s hot and he knows that his muscles flex with each one of his movement. He’s built every single muscle on his body to perfection and it’s so fucking hard to not get a good look. His biceps, thighs, pecs, abs. You could probably get off just by looking. 
"Such a good girl.” He takes his time as he runs his hands from your throat down to your hips. Everything about your body is a stimulant. He has imagined how you would look naked more times than he can count, but the real thing is so much better. “So pretty all the time, baby. You turn me on all the time.” 
He drags his tongue up your naval before wrapping his lips around your nipple and swirling his tongue around your skin. And, with ease and confidence, he dips his fingers beneath your cotton panties to run his digits against your clit. The double stimulation is something you've never had the pleasure of experiencing, but you’re totally happy that you’re feeling it now. 
As much as your sweet sounds turn him on, it makes him wonder how inexperienced you may be. He's not the type to fuck virgins. It's too much of a hassle and there's a part of him that feels regret to be somebody's first. He doesn't want attachment. No strings at all. 
"Have you been touched before?" He halts the movements of his fingers.
"Yes." You’re breathless already. You want to beg for him not to stop, but you contain yourself. 
"Don't lie." He tugs you further down the mattress and grins a little at your bewildered expression. "I haven't done anything yet and you’re already gonna come."
"I've been touched!" You retort with a bit more defence than you’d intended. "Just.. not like this."
"Have you been fucked?" He leans down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, and as he pulls away, you’re left breathless and your mouth is left missing the finesse of his tongue.
"Not like this." His words are laced with cockiness, but it isn’t a lie. He doesn’t fuck you at first, though. That’s too easy. He wants to touch your skin, to feel your arousal drip down your thighs and pool on his own skin. He wants to tease your pussy with his tongue, to suck on your clit until you come in his mouth. He wants to do it all, but his first act is to sit you on his lap, dig his fingers into your hips, and help you grind your pussy against his thigh until you’re panting and sinking your nails into his shoulders. His thigh does its rightful job of flexing and stimulating your clit, while his fingers wrap around your throat and his lips suck on your tongue. It’s a filthy sight; something you never thought you’d see yourself in, but it feels so fucking good. 
“Pretty girl.” He praises against your open lips. “Such a good girl.”
Your eyes are shut, your thighs are shaking, and pretty moans are slipping from your mouth and falling into his. He swears he’s never seen or heard anything so sexy, but he knows that you’ll come if he makes you do this any longer. So, he switches it up by returning you to the mattress, but in a completely different position that before. Ass up, face down; just how he likes it, just the right position to fuck you as deeply as humanly possible. 
"Pretty kitty." He praises before licking a harsh stripe from your clit to your lower back. The filthy act earns a whimper from your lips and a more intense throbbing in-between your thighs.. "I'm gonna destroy this pussy."
He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks like you’re his favourite candy and he doesn’t care if he gets toothache. You might as well be. You’re so sweet on his tongue. 
Your back immediately arches and a deep moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your clit. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and once he adds his fingers to the mix, you repeat the same phrase in your head. This is absolutely like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
He runs his fingers along your folds before pushing one deep inside of your pussy until his palm rubs against your clit; all while lapping up your arousal and nipping on your inner thighs with his teeth. He loves it when your thighs shake and when your moans turn into whines. He could come just by the sound. 
After all is said and done, he trails his tongue along your skin and leaves a deep love-bite beside the dimple of your back; a good reminder that he was here and nobody has ever made you feel this way. And, then he teases his cock against your sensitive entrance before sinking into you until his lower abdomen hits the top of your bare ass. A deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He swears on his life that he’s never felt a pussy like this. 
His fingers run from your lower back to the back of your head, where he takes your hair in his hand. Someone could walk in right now and you wouldn’t ask him to stop. This sex is beyond masturbation and beyond being fingered by a short-term boyfriend who you met in a marketing class in your first year. Way, way beyond. Jungkook fucks you deeper than you’ve ever known was possible, pays attention to your clit by reaching underneath you and rubbing against it with his fingers; all while tugging on your hair to keep you exactly where he wants you. You’re gonna come tonight. Jesus, fuck. You might come more than once tonight.
"Such a good girl, right?" His voice grows hoarse, but it’s still dripping profusely in lust. You've never heard anything so worthy of making your pussy tighten. "What would Taehyung say if he saw you like this?" 
He's fucking you with such strength that you can't seem to muster up the power to verbalise a response. All you can comprehend is the sound of his own stuttering breath, the sound of his skin hitting yours, and your own moans as they tumble from your lips. Your mouth remains ajar and your own saliva has started pooling at your chin. It's definitely a sight to behold. You don’t even want to imagine what anyone would say upon seeing this. Jungkook knows exactly what he wants to say. He knows what he wants to hear, too. 
“Come on, answer me.” He tightens his grip on your hair and tilts your head to the side to put his tongue in your mouth. It takes your breath away. And, when he pulls away, a string of saliva connects both of your lips his lips. “Your voice turns me on.” 
"Mad." You manage to breathe out in-between pitchy whines. Your fingers grip onto your bed-sheets with each of his thrusts. "He'd be—  Oh, fuck! Mad!"
"Yeah? Cause I get to tear this tight pussy open and he doesn't?"
You’ve never heard anything so filthy in your entire life, but you’ve also never been fucked so well in your entire life. This is exactly why you feel no shame in drooling like a kitten and moaning out his name each time he sinks back into you. His moans are a stimulant in themselves and make you tighten your walls around his cock each time. It’s a constant cycle. 
The sex lasts so long to the point where you began to forget that you actually exist. All you know is that you’re on your third orgasm and your thighs won’t stop shaking. Your skin is sore, your scalp is sore, there are tears in your eyes, your throat is dry. He fucks you until you can’t take it anymore; all while muttering the filthiest shit you’ve ever heard. He fucks you until you’re on the verge of sobbing, and until his hips stutter and he pulls out to come on your lower back. 
As he looks at your fucked-out body beneath him, he knows for certain that he wants to do this again. That was the tightest pussy he’s ever had the honour of fucking and he swears he’s never come that quick during sex before. "We could make this a thing, y'know."
"A thing?" You repeat, a little uneasy. You’re surprised you can even speak. 
"Yeah.” He confirms as he reaches for the box of tissues sat atop your bed-side table. He does his part in wiping his cum from your lower back and running his hands along your sore skin. His touch is comforting. “I'll fuck you whenever you want, and in return, you'll help me pass my units."
That might sound like a jolly good idea in his mind, but it rings some alarms in yours. You see, you’re a hopeless romantic with dreams of a beautiful, white wedding and three little children. He, on the other hand, doesn’t know what it is to be in a committed relationship. He never has. 
"Is that such a good idea?" You gather the remaining strength in you to shuffle onto your side. Your body feels like it needs sixty hours of rest to recover. But, respectfully, that was the best sex you think you’ll ever experience in your life. Why should you deprive yourself of more of it? "I mean.. What if one of us catches feelings? It’s possible.."
"You're funny." He humours as he leans down to capture your mouth in yet another dirty kiss. Again, it leaves you breathless and wanting more. You want him to stay a little longer, but that’s not how he rolls. “I’ll text you.”
“But, you don’t have my number.”
“I’ve had your number since first year. Asked one of your friends for it.” 
Tumblr media
Jungkook cuts you a deal; on Thursday's, he fucks you until your thighs are red from his palm and until you tap out from exhaustion. And, in exchange, you help him get through his units. No love, no dating, no labels. 
However, once a week becomes too little. There's something about the way you look when you touches you; like you're completely wrapped up in him, like you’re not thinking of anyone else. It’s different to how his usual one-night stands pan out. It makes him feel different; seen, heard, shy almost. Almost. He’s definitely not shy when it comes to asking for you, though. He’ll be sitting on a bus filled with commuters and conservative elders, and will feel no shame in using voice-to-text to get his message across:
[20 November, 2:21AM]
[Jungkook]: wanna fuck?
[You]: ok
[23 November, 6:04PM]
[Jungkook]: wanna fuck
[You]: okay
[24 November, 10:46AM]
[Jungkook]: what the fuck is a credit and debit
[You]: page 26 of the textbook will tell you :)
[Jungkook]: thanks i wanna fuck you tho lol
He often studies the way your lips part as he runs his fingers down your sternum, and the way your breath stutters as he sinks into you. He finds it fucking frightening, but he sometimes avoids blinking just so he doesn’t miss you. You're such a good girl on the surface, but a girl he fucks hard behind closed doors. And, to put in plainly, he likes being the only one to know about your double sided life. Ruining you is fun for him, as is fucking you from the back while his fingers abuse your clit.
After all is said and done, teasing you about your underwear choice is a whole lot more fun. He likes the way you frown as he holds your discarded panties above his head so you can’t reach them. It’s fun to have sex with someone like you. But, it feels more intimate at times and that’s what scares him. You’re not supposed to look so pretty with his fingers or his cock in your mouth, and you’re definitely not supposed to look so pretty when you’re sat in the library with dark bags under your eyes and a pencil between your lips. 
Instead of kicking your ankle with his sneakers or stealing your pens to annoy you during lectures, he places his hand on your inner thigh, drapes his arm behind your chair, or leans in to whisper suggestive innuendos in your ear. Most students know that you’re sleeping together, but all of them know that it’ll never be anything more. Jungkook isn’t the type to catch feelings. He’s fucked the hottest girls on campus, but hasn’t ever offered anything more. 
Sometimes, you’re too busy with college work to meet up with him, and that makes him feel a little left out. You’re becoming his routine and he’s starting to feel out of place whenever he doesn’t see you. It’s a total head-fuck. 
Tumblr media
On a late Tuesday afternoon, Jungkook catches you as you’re reading a sickly-sweet romance novel in the library; Love In The Time of Cholera by García Márquez. His first reaction upon seeing you is to snatch the novel from your hands and read the first sentence out loud. 
“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century..” He plays out the dramatics by clutching his chest. “ repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everla—.” 
You’ve fallen in a deep pit of humiliation at this point, so your next appropriate move is to snatch back the novel and stuff it deep within your bag. 
“Any sex in that book?” He grins and pulls up a seat next to you. “More importantly.. Have you touched yourself today?” 
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’ve told me that before.” He leans closer to whisper the innuendo, but it’s not like he actually cares if others hear. It’s about the dramatics and the delivery of a flirty line. “Wanna hang out?”
“Hang out.” You repeat, a little whiplashed. “As in..?”
“As in hang out.” He fiddles with the zipper of your bag like an uneasy child. If there’s something to note about him, it’s that he’s not very good at sitting still. He wants to touch everything, to speak to everyone, and be in a constant state of i-gotta-do-something. “I feel like hanging out.” 
“Er— Yeah, okay. We can hang out.”
You’re not entirely sure what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t to be seated on a bus with him while he shows you his Smurfs’ village. He tilts his phone to the side and explains that Papa Smurf has asked him to grow twenty potatoes in exchange for three smurfberries. It’s all very perplexing, but it makes you realise just how simple this man truly is. He plays children’s phone games in his spare time, speaks with the elderly, and probably talks to any wildlife he comes across. These new realisations make you adore him. Sure, he may have zero filter and feels no regret in teasing you, but he’s genuinely a good guy. 
It takes forty seven minutes for the bus to reach the bus-stop you two get off at. You’ve never been in this neighbourhood before, but you’re glad that you’re here now. It’s ran by flora and fauna (rabbits and ducks, mostly) and the air is noticeably easier to breathe in. Little cottage-style houses stretch down the length of the windy roads and the third one from the bus-stop is the place he calls home. Vines have crawled up the walls and have completely overtaken the light coloured brick, the roof is dark and mossy, and the white paint on the casement windows have peeled back over the years. 
The interior of his house is like any other; there are random family photos hung on the wall, there’s a fruit-bowl on the kitchen counter (although, it’s empty), and various ‘live, laugh, love’ trinkets are sat on the living room cabinets. However, there are a fuck ton of empty beer bottles stacked up in the kitchen and the living room. It makes you wonder, but it’s not your place to pry into sensitive shit like that. 
Jungkook’s bedroom is nothing like you’d expect. Yeah, the walls may be grey and there may be discarded clothes on the floor, but his bookshelves are filled with various koala plushies, different sizes of the Australian map, kangaroo fridge magnets, and small emu figurines. You’ve counted over fifteen eucalyptus candles, and although none have been opened, the room still smells piney, minty, and sweet. 
“Don’t mind the mess.” He says as he picks up a lone shirt and tosses it on the end of his bed. 
“What’s with the Australian shrine?” 
“They’re gifts from my mom. She sends them too often.” 
"Is this her?" You run your finger along an intricate photo-frame that’s sat on his bedside table. The woman in the photo has a messy head of dark hair and a safari hat fastened underneath her chin. She looks like an unkept zoo keeper, but so happy and full of life.
"Yeah." He says plainly. "She moved to Australia to breed koalas after she divorced my dad. Haven't seen her in a while."
That’s a short summary of his moms history. Before she left the country, she ran a native animal sanctuary and was always filling up the house with various animal trinkets and memorabilia. They’re still placed around the house, but have long since gathered dust. She didn’t take much with her; just a passport, her favourite tennis shoes, and a small backpack full of plain clothes. 
“Oh, wow.. How long has she been gone?”
“Almost a year.”
“Is that why you have the eucalyptus tattoo?” You query. “For your mom?”
“You’re a little Einstein, aren’t you?”
When you turn to face him and reply with a witty remark, he kisses you. But, not roughly or dominated by tongue like he usually would. The kiss is slow and sweet, like he’s trying to drink you in. And, his hands cup your jaw to keep you just where he wants you. There’s something about the way you look into his eyes on most days; it makes him want to be gentle and vulnerable with you. He’s never felt that feeling before; like he wants to fuck the soul out of you, but also play with your hair and hold your hand. It’s a complete head-fuck, especially for someone as out-of-touch as himself. 
“What was that for?” You ask, a little breathless, after he breaks the kiss.
“Dunno.” He fibs. “Just felt like it.” 
And, then he kisses you again while his hands grip your waist and your own run through his soft hair. You don’t feel weird kissing him, now that he’s seen every inch of your skin and has heard every moan variation you’re physically capable of producing. You feel comfortable and it’s a nice feeling. 
But, then the front door slams and it makes you jump in fright. Is this one of his family members? You think to yourself. How are you supposed to introduce yourself? As his friend? Fuck-buddy? Study-buddy? Oh, fuck. 
“Is that your dad?” You query with wide eyes. 
“No.” He lies and he doesn’t know why he does. “Yes, it’s my dad.. Fuck. Can we go somewhere else?”
It then becomes apparent that you don’t need to introduce yourself. Why bother? His dad reeks of alcohol and you could practically smell it before he even walked in the house. A man in his late forties has stumbled down the hallway and propped himself up against the doorframe. They look so similar, it’s uncanny; black, wavy hair, honey skin, generous height, and an athletic frame. 
“Oh.” His dad blinks a few times in his drunken state. He’s dressed in an old leather jacket and paint-stained jeans. “Who’s the bitch?”
Jungkook sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you knock before you come in? I’m busy.”
“This is my house!” His dad slurs in an awfully loud voice. “I’ll open any door I want!”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t feel so comfortable anymore. You’ve never had to experience a fight like this in your entire life, nor have you been in the same room as an aggressive drunk person. Maybe that’s why you’re so naive. 
Jungkook feels no fear in digging in his dad’s jeans for his car keys. He’s way too drunk to do any actual damage. If he were to swing at him, he’d just lose balance and tumble backward. But, knowing how to navigate an abusive dad is a skill that nobody should have to learn. That’s not what kids should have to learn.
With the bundle of house-keys in one hand, Jungkook uses the other to take your hand and escort you down the hallway, out the front door, and toward a busted truck parked on the driveway. Is he about to steal his dads truck? That’s not his truck, right? You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you oblige without much hesitation when he tells you to get in the passenger seat. The interior is just as damaged as the exterior and cigarette butts have piled up in the cup holders. It makes you wonder if he smokes along with his dad, but you’ve never once tasted tobacco on his tongue, so you highly doubt it. 
“You ungrateful git!” Jungkook’s dad stumbles out of the front door and yells out as the truck swiftly reverses. The sheer volume and tone of his voice makes you jump in your skin, but Jungkook is completely unfazed. You wonder how often he’s had to hear it to become so accustomed. Again, this isn’t something a kid should have to learn to cope with. 
He stays silent for a lot of the drive; silently switching gears and tapping his thumb against the steering wheel. He’s wearing a deep frown and can’t stop nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s in deep thought. It makes you uneasy. You want to be in the loop, the hear him talk, but he doesn’t. At least, not for the first fifteen minutes. 
“I’m sorry.” He speaks once the truck stops at an intersection. His thumb is still fidgeting with the wheel, but not as reverently. “I didn’t think he’d be home so early.”
“Jungkook, it’s okay, really.” You lace your voice with everything that could ever be used to reassure a person. None of this is his fault. He didn’t purposely put you in harms way. He wouldn’t ever do that. 
Jungkook is quiet for the rest of the journey back to campus, and when he reaches the parking lot, he takes up two parking spots like madman. The parking warden is going to have a field day once she makes it to his truck in time to slap a hefty fine on the window shield. 
“He usually stays at the bar until midnight. Fuck, I’m sorry. It was dumb to bring you there.” 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about your dad.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” 
“I can handle it, Jungkook.” You say with a hint of uncertainty hidden within your voice. Alright, maybe you can’t handle a lot, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to be there for him. “I just want to be your friend.” 
Something in him snaps at your offer and he instantly becomes defensive. Friends. To him, friends are people who get drunk together and text each-other sometimes. You’re not fit to be his friend. Weakness is not a trait he’s ever had to show anyone either, so it’s difficult to come to terms with unleashing it. What falls from his mouth next isn’t the truth, but he’s just so set on being the bigger person; whatever that means. 
“It’s none of your business, Y/N. You're just my toy..” His words hurt him more than they hurt you. He feels like a completely different person as he’s raining down on you; like his dad. “I fuck you like I love you, but I really don’t.”
His words cut like paper, but you know he’s enduring a lot more pain than he’s dishing out. He doesn’t mean it. He wouldn’t ever mean that. That’s not who he is. 
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me.” You dig in your pocket for a trinket before dangling the cutesy figure from your fingers. It’s a Hello Kitty charm hooked around a silver keychain. Pink, white, and yellow is the palette. The gesture is a lot more meaningful to him than you intend. It’s just a keychain, but it’s also something that he can carry around to remind him of you. You’re not his friend. His friends don’t do this. They don’t think about each-other like this or act selflessly for one-another. “I won this while I was at a carnival last year. I thought you might like it.” 
He looks at the figurine, but he doesn’t reach out to take it. He’s hesitant, but only because he thinks that he doesn’t deserve it. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you and can see it on his face, so you gently grab his wrist and place it in his hand. 
"If you want me." You begin with a firm tone. Good for you. "You can come and find me. I still want to be your friend."
He doesn't reply, and instead tightens his grip on the keyring while avoiding all intimate eye contact. You want to reach over and run your fingers through his hair and tell him that everything will turn out just fine, but you don’t. You want to take away all of his pain, but you can’t. It doesn’t work like that. Different situations call for different tactics. 
"Just.. give me back my textbook after you're done using it.” Is the last thing you say before hopping out of the truck and wandering deeper into campus. 
Jungkook sits in the truck with his eyes trained on the Hello Kitty keyring and his heart on his sleeve for the first time. 
Tumblr media
When he goes home that same night, he drinks until he throws up and allows himself to be consumed by the characteristics of his dad. It's not until he has nothing left in his stomach to throw up that he realises he doesn't want to be him. His dad has been the bane of his existence; always yelling, drinking, belittling, and being openly prejudiced toward strangers on the street.
Why have children if you won't love them? Why have children if you refuse to nurture and help them reach their potential? Why label yourself a father when you disown your child after each disagreement? The abuse, the power struggle, the hatred. Why call yourself a human at all?
Jungkook is a product of his childhood and for the longest time, had a fear of sudden, loud noises which stemmed from his dads constant yelling. And, although it took him many, many years to overcome his battle, he’s not any less of a worthy solider. 
His mom is a good woman regardless if she spends her days thousands of kilometres from her family. Every week without fail, she mails her son an envelope full of various Australian animal trinkets, photo cards, and images of her and her koalas. She constantly entertains the idea that he should come and live with her for a while. And, the way she describes the Australian heat and the blue oceans makes him consider doing just that. 
With the back of his head propped up against the bathroom cabinet and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, Jungkook dangles the Hello Kitty keychain in front his face and allows himself to smile at the thought of you. You've made him smile more in these past few weeks than he's ever genuinely smiled before. So much so that it feels like he steps into a completely different world whenever he's with you. Your smile can light up a room, your smartness astounds him, and although your dress sense isn't trendy in the slightest, he still likes how it looks on you.
You walk around like a mom with your cuffed jeans, slogan shirts and cardigans. You're so fucking lame, but he likes you so much. You're so fucking lame, but there's nobody else that he'd rather spend his time with. You make him feel seen, heard, that his issues aren’t irrelevant and it’s more than okay to talk about them. You’re his lifeline and he has the option of wrapping his arms around you instead of being still in the water and drowning. 
Tumblr media
Three days pass and although it pains him to keep away from you, he knows it’s in his best interest to do just that. He spends his time thinking, really thinking. Who does he want in his life right now? Why do you make him feel so good? Why does he feel a pain in his chest when you talk with other guys? Why does he only think of you when he touches himself? And, why does he think of you even when he’s not touching himself? And, then it hits him when he least expects it. Literally. He’s walking back to his house from the bus-stop when he realises that he likes you more than a friend. He wants you and he wants more than your body. He wants to hear every detail of your day, your laugh, to kiss you just because he can, to commit to you. To love you. He can’t wait to fall in-love with you. It excites him more than anything he’s ever felt before. It’s then that he does a full 180 and hops back on the bus to make the forty seven minute journey back toward campus. 
It’s 4:29PM. You’re in the library with a cloudy head and a cramped-up hand from writing so much nonsense for one of your assignments. You couldn’t be in a worse mood right now. Jungkook is ignoring you, so you can’t concentrate, and because you can’t concentrate, you can’t finish this assignment, and because you can’t finish this assignment, you can’t get a good grade for the unit.
Holy shit.
Your life was so, so simple two months ago. This entire situation has made you realise that you’re not a side character and you’ve always had the option of befriending anyone of your choice, even Jungkook. That’s generally how life goes. It’s brought on more bad than it has good, though, and that’s what hurts you so much. You never want to be the reason for somebody’s tears.
But, just as you think that your day couldn't possibly shift in mood, a stranger decides to pull up the seat next to you. Only, this person is no stranger to you. You could recognise that dark hair and honey skin from a mile away.
Jungkook lays the side of his face against your lap and closes his eyes. He doesn’t care how it may look to the conservative librarians or to other students. He just wants to lay here and feel your hands run through his hair and the pads of your fingers stroke his skin.
"Found you." He mutters, earning a small smile from your lips. But, he doesn’t say what he thought he had the courage to say. Instead, he just lays here and hopes that you feel what he does. 
"I didn't make it that difficult."
Thanks for reading! 
permanent taglist (for all of my works) — @zeharilisharaban @ayumimegami @philostuff @carolsummerlove @piaesthetic @viokook @bangtan-serendipity @kookie-monsteur @codeinebelle @omot7 @jeon-ggukkie @prdshobi @kookoo-kachoo @goldenlilyz @chiminies-noona @seolaryj @fancycollectormoon @she-is-dreaming
6K notes · View notes
njkbangtan · 6 months ago
Tumblr media
Magic Shop - JJK (Final Chapter) - May 25, 2021
Jamais Vu - JJK (one shot) - April 24, 2021
Velvet & Valere - KNJ (one shot) - February 14, 2021
Your Eyes Tell - JJK (Special Chapter) - February 08, 2021 - PART OF SOULMATE AU SERIES
Save Me - KTH (Final Chapter) January 26, 2021
Euphoria - JJK (One shot) January 15, 2021 - PART OF INTRO SERIES
Tumblr media
Currently Writing:
Let Go | JHS (Series) - forbidden love, soulmate au
Coming Soon:
Blood, Sweat, and Tears | JJK (Series) - vampire au
JKIXI97 | JJK (Series) - mafia au, fantasy au
Lights | KNJ (Series) - soulmate au
111 notes · View notes
lunar-jimin · 6 months ago
Tumblr media
Pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
Rating: PG-13
Genre: college!au, alternate reality, fluff, future smut, future angst, e2l
Current Word Count: 1127
Warnings: swearing
Series Summary: You never thought the quiet boy in the back of the class would be your greatest competition for a prestigious music internship. And who knew he could be so loud?
A/N: Hello loves! Here’s the first full chapter of What a Heavenly Way to Die. Please let me know what you think about it! Happy December!
Tumblr media
|| Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Series Masterlist ||
Tumblr media
You were sure you were garnering strange looks from the students around you as you sped down the narrow hall but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You missed the bus and you weren’t ready to be late to class for the first time in four years. A binder of sheet music clutched in one hand and violin case in the other, you wove in and out of clumps of people.
Crashing through the door with seconds to spare, you immediately found your seat and slumped down on the hard wooden chair. Beside you, Winter, a fellow violinist and Duchess of Alyran, raised her eyebrow.
“Missed the bus.”
She nodded before turning back to Namjoon, her ever faithful bodyguard.
You turned back to the front of class, where Professor Oh was scribbling on the chalkboard. Using the sleeve of your shirt, you dabbed the droplets of sweat perched on your brow. There was nothing in the world you hated more than running, and thanks to your missed alarm, you had done more than your fair share of it today.
“Ok, class, before we start back in with Tchaikovsky, I wanted to bring to your attention that applications for the Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists are due at the end of October.”
Murmurs broke out across the room. The Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists, more commonly known as the Queen’s Musician, was an opportunity for four classical music majors from the Anntonette Royal Academy of the Arts to work with His Majesty’s Orchestra, an internship that generally became a job. It was every musician’s dream, and you were no exception.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the prestige that comes with this internship,” Professor Oh continued, “not to mention the paycheck. Thus I encourage all of you to apply. You can do it online on the royal website, or you can pick up a paper form from me during office hours.”
You glanced at Winter and saw that her eyes were just as afire as yours. Ever since you had picked up your first bow at age five, you had dreamed of sitting as first chair while the richest people in the world danced to your music. It was competitive, no doubt, and only those that were completely and utterly dedicated to the craft succeeded.
Class passed quickly, your mind no longer focused on the strings beneath your fingers, instead you were dreaming of royal ballrooms. As you were leaving, Professor Oh called out after you.
“Are you planning on applying for the Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists?”
“Of course.”
“Oh good. I know that I’m not supposed to have opinions on such matters, but I think you stand a good chance of playing with our kingdom’s best musicians by the end of the school year.”
She gave you a fond smile and you were reminded once again of why Oh was your favorite professor. She taught your first theory class Freshman year and you had been working with her ever since.
“I sure hope you’re right. I think I speak for everyone in the music department when I say being in that orchestra is the dream. Your confidence in me means a lot.”
“Of course,” she grins.
“Oh, and I wanted to give you the piece we’re working on next week in my freshman class,” she handed you a piece of sheet music, “I know you’re busy with your senior year and everything, but it would mean the world to me if you drop by. I’ve talked you up quite a bit and the students would be very pleased if you could perform for them.”
“It would be my honor.”
“Very well then, have a good rest of your day.”
“You too Professor Oh.”
You gave her a polite nod, before leaving into the crowded hallway. Trying to fit the sheet music into your binder without dropping your case proved to be quite difficult. It was because of this that you didn’t notice Yoongi until it was too late.
For the second time in as many weeks, you found yourself on your ass, this time with papers flying everywhere.
“Ow, fuck.”
You were happy your ankle was spared, but your ass wasn’t so lucky. You were fully prepared to wake up tomorrow morning with a bruised behind.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
It felt like deja vu, Yoongi once again by your side, concern plastered across his face.
“I’m fine Yoongi, although if I don’t act soon, my music may not be.”
Yoongi just then seemed to notice the paper everywhere around you and immediately moved to begin collecting it up. The two of you scurried to gather it all before some stoned freshie fucked it all up.
“So, how you been?”
“Yoongi, you were literally texting me last night.”
Ever since you gave him your number, the two of you found yourselves texting every night for hours on end. In fact, your oversleeping this morning had been the direct result of you and Yoongi’s debate on the greatest composer of the twentieth century which ended somewhere around three in the morning.
“I know, I know. I’m just shitty at small talk.”
He gave you a lopsided grin.
“You seem to do just fine if you can use emojis?”
“Oh, shut up.”
You laughed. Even though it was fairly new, you really enjoyed your friendship with Yoongi. His intellectual humor and passion that rivaled your own made you compatible.
“So Yoongs, are you applying for the Queen’s Musician?”
The two of you had successfully collected your papers and were now loitering on the side of the hallway, waiting for it to clear up.
“You’re kidding right?” he snorted, “Of course I am. I would be a fool not to.”
“That’s true.”
“Are you?”
You looked at him and raised your eyebrow.
“Right Of course you are.”
“I would be a fool not to,” you mock.
“Wouldn’t it be so cool if we both got it?”
“That would be amazing. A miracle.”
“Yeah, it would be.”
“God, I’ve been dreaming about this since I was ten. It’s so crazy that I’m about to apply.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve been dreaming about it since I was five. Lord knows if I’ll even survive the heart attack I’ll have if I get it.”
“You’ll survive, you’ll have to.”
“Thanks for the support.”
The crowd in the hall had died down to a few lingers like yourselves.
“Well, I’ve got to go. I told Daisy and Jungkook I would meet up with them for lunch.”
“Oh well, have fun.”
“Yeah, I will. See you around Yoongs.”
“See ya.”
He smiled, and you were very hopeful that the feeling in your stomach was hunger and not butterflies.
22 notes · View notes
lunar-jimin · 6 months ago
Tumblr media
we can listen to this song, so we don’t have to accept it
Pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: college!au, alternate reality, fluff, future smut, future angst, e2l
Current Word Count: 1722
Warnings: see each chapter
Series Summary: You never thought the quiet boy in the back of the class would be your greatest competition for a prestigious music internship. And who knew he could be so loud?
Tumblr media
➸ Prologue (595)
 ➸ Chapter 1: the Queen’s Musician (1127)
6 notes · View notes
lunar-jimin · 6 months ago
Tumblr media
Pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
Rating: PG-13
Genre: college!au, alternate reality, fluff, future smut, future angst, e2l
Word Count: 595
Warnings: minor injury, swearing
Series Summary: You never thought the quiet boy in the back of the class would be your greatest competition for a prestigious music internship. And who knew he could be so loud?
A/N: Hello loves! This is the first glimpse into my world of Anntonette! I hope you enjoy. It is also posted on AO3 and Wattpad if you prefer those platforms! 
Tumblr media
|| Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Series Masterlist ||
Tumblr media
Your gloved hand grasps tighter around the black leather handle. The violin case softly taps against your leg as you make your way across the empty street. It’s early. Too early. The sun is only just peeking over the horizon. Only the caramel macchiato in your right hand is keeping you from falling asleep with your eyes open.
The campus is eerily empty when you arrive. You hurry along the uneven brick path to the conservatory. Wet leaves are smattered under your feet. Just as you round the last corner, the ground disappears from beneath you.
“Fuck,” you yell, pulling the case to your chest while your precious drink explodes on the ground beside you.
You freeze on your back, as pain radiates out from your twisted ankle, suddenly happy that there wasn’t a soul around to see you fall.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Or so you thought.
You groan, slowly sitting up. After looking around for the disembodied voice, your eyes land on a man buried in an oversized black sweatshirt.
His voice breaks through the air again, as he begins to jog toward you.
“I’m fine, I think.”
You attempt to stand up before pain shoots through your leg and you find yourself back on your ass.
He rushes to your side, kneeling down beside you. You glance at his face and immediately recognize him as Min Yoongi, the quietest boy on campus. While the two of you shared plenty of classes, you had never heard him say so much as a word in all three years you had been attending university.
“Let me help you,” his voice is low and sweet, “where are you going?”
“Uh, the conservatory.”
“Oh, right.”
He sounds sheepish as he takes your violin case from you before helping you to your feet. The two of you are silent as you slowly limp to the grand brick building that houses the Anntonette Royal Academy of the Arts’ music program. You can’t help but notice how good he smells- a comforting blend fresh laundry and coffee.
The stairs take a good ten minutes to tackle, but with Yoongi’s guidance you make it up in one piece. He pushes the grand oak door open and together your hobble into the grand foyer. He glances at you, and you nod toward the right.
“So, what are you doing on campus this early in the morning?”
You’re taken aback at his sudden question, the awkwardly calming silence broken.
“Um, I rented out a studio to practice in. It’s senior year, you know, and I need to get on my game, and my roommates make it impossible to focus.”
He nods in understanding.
“What about you?”
“I, uh, tune the pianos for a little extra cash.”
He blushes a little.
“Oh, cool.”
The two of you fall back into silence. A few corners later and you’re in front of another oak door, this one much smaller.
“This is me.”
You offer him a smile.
“Oh cool.”
“Thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. It's what anyone would do.”
“Well, thanks anyway. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
You turn to enter the room.
“Can I have your number?”
“Your number. Can I have it?”
He hands his phone out to you, rosy hues dusting his cheeks.
“Oh, sure.”
You take it from him, quickly entering in your info.
He gives you a shy smile.
“Have a good day.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You grin as you turn back to the door.
10 notes · View notes
njkbangtan · 7 months ago
Tumblr media
Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?
“A future without you is a world without color.”
Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au
Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Note: sorry for the errors :((( love u.
Tumblr media
Jeon Jeongguk was a hypocrite.
He said he didn't want to stay with you just because you helped him see colors, yet three weeks after officially being your roommate, he realized that you were too important to him.
Well, it wasn't you per se that was important to him. It was actually the benefits he derived from living with you.
"Ah, so you're her sugar baby?" Yoongi didn't even blink as he asked this to Jeongguk.
"Hyung!" Fixing his bucket hat, Jeongguk glared at his older friend. Sometimes, he wondered why he's friends with someone as shameless as Yoongi. It's like the latter didn't care if someone heard them casually talking about sex and sugaring.
"What?" Yoongi creased his forehead while grabbing the cocktail shaker.
Yoongi was professional bartender—this was one of the reasons why Jeongguk decided to go to Genius Lab tonight. He knew Yoongi would always pay for his drinks. You see, Yoongi wasn't only a bartender; he was also the owner of Genius lab, one of the high-end bars located in Itaewon. The name of the bar was coined by the owner himself. Yoongi claimed that no one could ever beat him when it came to mixing different drinks.
"I'm not her sugar baby..." Jeongguk pouted his lips, his cheeks were turning red. Yoongi couldn't tell if it was because he had drunk too much alcohol, or if he was just embarrassed with the idea of being a sugar baby.
Ah, sugar baby.
That thought didn't cross his mind until Yoongi mentioned it. Was he really your sugar baby?
Jeongguk wasn't sure if sugaring always included sex. What he knew was if that’s the case, then your relationship with him wouldn't fall into that.
With you, sex was off the table. Jeongguk couldn't even bear to look at you, more so, touch you. One thing was for sure, though. Your relationship was mutually beneficial.
Jeongguk did all the household chores in exchange of living in your huge apartment for free. He thought it would be easy, but he was so wrong.
The piles of papers just kept on coming—just like Miri's hair on the carpet. The cat had a sweet spot for Jeongguk, but it didn't mean that she would stop scratching the walls and pooping all over the place.
Another thing Jeongguk hated was that you didn't seem to enjoy the meals he prepared just for you. This wasn't always the case, but he noticed that you barely touched the food that took him a lot of time to make.
It was as if you were more contented with just eating instant ramen. Admittedly, this hurt his feelings. It wasn't supposed to go like this since he obviously didn't care about you. Jeongguk believed that it was just his pride talking. He's too competitive for his own good. You claimed that you liked him, yet you didn't like the garlic shrimp he cooked tonight.
Was it really that bad? Jeongguk was so frustrated that he ended up seeking the comfort of Yoongi's killer drinks. He was sure hangover's gonna ruin his life tomorrow, but it didn't matter. He just needed to get away from you.
"I don't know about you, but she treats you like how I treat my sugar babies." Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. He was referring to Taehyung and Jimin. They're his sugar babies.
Jeongguk sighed. You sure treated him like one. He didn't ask for it, but you kept on buying him nice things.
You bought him his dream camera, some expensive art materials, and that Prada boots you saw him checking online. It was crazy because this all happened in the span of three weeks.
You were really whipped for the boy.
"I didn't ask for it." Jeongguk gritted his teeth. He suddenly regretted sharing this to Yoongi. He should've kept it to himself, but the thing was, Jeongguk couldn't contain the happiness he felt.
He was easy to please. If someone complimented or did nice things for him, he would never forget it for the rest of his life. This was the main reason why he decided to cook that garlic shrimp. He couldn't thank you like a normal person, so he thought he'd just express his gratitude through actions.
"Whatever." Jeongguk couldn't argue with the bartender anymore. He was tired of fighting everyone around him so he just downed the remaining liquor in his glass.
The bitterness of it crept into his throat down to his heart. He was mad again.
How could things end up like this? He was having a good time earlier today. Jeongguk actually found peace with the idea of living with you.
He thought he could do it without hatred consuming him. After all, it was only going to last for months. Three months—no. Four. He came to an agreement with himself that he'd be staying with you for four months.
He could do it. Jeongguk was sure he could afford his own place by that time. If you continued treating him like a sugar baby, he could definitely sell the things you gave him online. The Prada shoes weren't a joke. He knew people would be willing to pay for it for as high as seven hundred dollars.
He also thought that he could at least try to be nice to you even though he couldn't love you. Jeongguk was aware that the hatred he felt was what caused you to see in black and white again.
It was unfair for the reason that the color he was seeing was so vivid. He's certain it was because the attraction you felt for him was beyond limit.
You see, that was the problem with you. You loved too much, you cared too much. Jeongguk couldn't understand why there were people as naive as you. It was stupid to continue to like someone when that person was clearly taking you for granted.
Jeongguk was taking you for granted.
He's using the fact that he could see colors to get away from you.
Jeongguk lost his job weeks ago. His boss said that they couldn't sell his artworks anymore.
"People don't want your art, Mr. Jeon." The boss shook his head regrettably, making Jeongguk arch his brow.
"Why not?" His voice was small when he asked this. Ugly thoughts clouded his mind. Why did everyone keep on rejecting him these days? Was it because he wasn't good enough? But...he was trying so hard. Jeongguk poured his whole heart in drawing. Why wouldn't people purchase his works?
"Don't take it personal, Mr. Jeon. Your artworks are phenomenal. It's just that the buyers are looking for something new. Something with substance. Your works lack sparks. It lacks—"The boss paused, eyes trailing down Jeongguk's sketches.
This was the second time Jeongguk realized he hated the idea of soulmates. It just kept on proving him that people wereshallow. They always wanted more, and as much as he hated it, he knew he needed to pull himself together and go with the flow.
'If you couldn't break the system, be a part of the system.' This way he could learn how it worked, and then he could create something greater.
Jeongguk was decided. He was going to use colors to his advantage. He's going to try painting. With colors.
"You want more?" Yoongi spoke, halting Jeongguk's musing.
The younger boy eagerly nodded. How could he say 'no' to Yoongi's drinks? It always tasted like heaven. The consequences could choke in hell.
Jeongguk regretted not drinking moderately.
He had too much to drink, that he was conscious of. It was the only explanation why he couldn't stop thinking about you—as in the mean things he said to you just because he was mad.
"You know what?" Jeongguk hissed upon realizing that you didn't like the garlic shrimp.
It was obvious by the constant scowl you make every time you're about to bring the fork close to your mouth.
This was a bad idea. Jeongguk never sat down with you to eat. He usually just prepared your food and left it on the table. Truthfully, he didn't care about your reaction. He just knew he had to cook and go straight to his room.
Why didn't he simply do that? Why did he have to watch you eat now? It was stupid.
"You're done." He snatched your plate away. "You are not going to eat my food."
"I don't understand—" You sounded confused, but Jeongguk couldn't tell. He was avoiding your eyes. He was so mad all he could think about was his own feelings.
"You could've just said you don't like it, you know?" His jaw clenched as he finally found the courage to look at you in the eyes.
He could see your confusion now. It was written all over your tired face. Jeongguk's stomach turned upside down. It was only now that he realized that you probably had a rough day at work. You actually just got home. It was heartbreaking that even at the confinement of your own abode, you couldn't find comfort.
Jeongguk was making things harder for you. Still, he couldn't stop his anger.
"Now I know why no one wants to be your roommate or maid." He threw the food in the trash, including the plate.
"You're ungrateful."
Tears formed in your eyes.
You're ungrateful...
Replaying those two words in your head was enough to let your tears fall non-stop.
"I'm sorry." Your voice was barely audible when you said this. It served as a confirmation for Jeongguk to think that you indeed didn't like the food.
He scoffed, shaking his head.
Jeongguk didn't know what to say, so he simply left. Again, He needed to get away from you.
"Fuck," cursed by Jeongguk. Why was he being haunted by the words he said to you just a few hours ago? Was he that guilty?
The stubborn part of him was defending his attitude towards you. It kept on justifying that what he did was okay. You weren't being subtle about your distaste to his food, so why should he consider your feelings?
With this new found justification, Jeongguk lazily fished his phone out of his pocket.
His eyes were hazy. His head was pounding. Yoongi was nowhere to be found. He was alone in the bar counter, but he never truly was.
He got hatred to keep him company.
Tumblr media
He sent the text messages to you. He wasn't sure why he was texting you. He also didn't know why he was pissed off that you weren't replying.
Were you sleeping? Or were you ignoring him?
Jeongguk chugged on his beer.  
Tumblr media
These messages were sent an hour ago.  Back when Jeongguk was still at Genius Lab. Right now, he was sprawled on your couch. His eyes are tightly shut.
You took this as an opportunity to stare at your soulmate’s face. You had been living with him for three weeks already, but this was the first time you truly had the chance to study his features. It was because Jeongguk always turned his back on you—as if he couldn’t stand to see you or to even hear your voice.
The first thing you noticed was Jeongguk’s thin lips. There’s a small mole just below the bottom of his lip. Jeongguk looked so innocent when he’s sleeping. It was as if he couldn’t hurt anyone—which was far from truth. What happened earlier was a proof that this boy had a sharp tongue. You couldn’t hold this against him, though. The poor boy was hurt. He really thought you didn’t like his food.
Jeongguk groaned when you tried to lift his arms. You couldn’t let him sleep on the couch like this. It was too small for him. You were sure he’d end up having a stiff neck.
“Come on, Gukkie. You need to stand up…” You hooked his arm around your neck, but he pulled it away from you.
You sighed. He was still a brat even though he was drunk.
“Help me out, please? I can’t carry you.” Your eyes trailed down his body. Jeongguk was wearing ripped jeans so you could see his strong muscles underneath the tight clothing.
He only groaned in response.
You let out another deep breath.
You gave up. There was no way you could carry him to his room. Jeongguk was really a pain in the ass. He left you hours ago, then he texted you just to tell you he hated you—as if what he said to you in person wasn’t good enough to cause you pain. Sixty minutes later, he disturbed the 28th floor of the building by knocking loudly on your door. You instantly realized he was intoxicated because instead of rolling his eyes the second he saw you, he only smiled before collapsing on top of you. Luckily, you were able to push him on the couch.
For some reason, you ended up sitting on the sofa. Jeongguk’s head was resting on your lap. He was still silently groaning. His head was probably throbbing. Jeongguk reek of alcohol.
“Hate…you…” He murmured. He was hammered, yet he knew you were near him.
“Ssshh,” you simply patted his head.
“Nooo~” His lips protruded into a sulky out. He hated that he liked the way you’re caressing the top of his head.
“You…” He was trying to keep his eyes open. He wanted to glare at you. “Hated my food!”
You giggled at his reaction. Damn. You weren’t supposed to laugh because you seriously got hurt because of what he said, but he was just so cute.
“I don’t hate it, you big baby!” A chuckle escaped your lips once again. You continued stroking his hair.
You thought Jeongguk was going to ask you why you acted like you didn’t like it; however, he didn’t. He was fast asleep.
You smiled, answering the question anyway.
“I’m allergic to shrimp.”
Silence engulfed the whole room, a clear sign that Jeongguk was finally off to dreamland.
You were wrong.
Jeongguk was still awake. He heard what you said. In fact, the apology was just about to leave his mouth, but you were already standing up.
You went to the kitchen, leaving Jeongguk alone.
You left just as the words “I’m sorry,” escaped his trembling lips.
You didn’t hear anything since you were already busy talking to someone on the phone.
“Hello?” The person on the other line said. Her voice was hoarse, making you feel guilty.
“Hi.” You bit your bottom lip. “I know it’s late, but—”
“It’s fine, Attorney.” She instantly dismissed your excuse by laughing. She hoped you knew that she would do anything for you. It didn’t matter that you were calling her in the middle of the night.
“Uh, so…” You trailed off, not knowing how to start your speech.
Being the good assistant that she was, the person on the other line patiently waited for your response.
“Take your time.” She said softly, yet you could hear the sleepiness in her voice.
You cleared your throat. You felt guilty for taking advantage of your sweet, sweet assistant.
“I just need your recipe for Kongnamul-Guk.”
Your heart skipped a beat when your assistant didn’t answer right away. Was she mad? Oh, my God. Of course she was! You called her at two in the morning just to ask for the recipe of the best hangover soup in your country. You were demented.
But your worries immediately vanished when she laughed endearingly.
“Is that all, Attorney?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.” You bit your lower lip once again.
“Okay. I’ll send it you via text…”
“Thank you.” You blushed.
“Anything for you.” She was sweet. “Goodnight?”
You nodded despite the fact that she couldn’t see you.
“Yeah. Goodnight, Red. See you later…”
You ended the call.
538 notes · View notes
njkbangtan · 8 months ago
Tumblr media
➭ You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?
“A future without you is a world without color.”
Genre: soulmate au, e2l, unrequited love, heavy angst, fluff, lawyer au.
Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Tumblr media
"Please, Joon. I just need to know if he's okay..."
 Namjoon scratched the back of his head while looking at Red. The latter was practically begging him to spill things he's been forbidden to utter. He was certain he's just seconds away from telling her what she wanted to know, but then he's abruptly reminded of how heartbroken Jeongguk was.
 "Don't tell her I'm here," tears painted Jeongguk's cheeks. "I don't want to see her. Not now." Or ever...
 "He's not here, Red. I'm sorry," Namjoon sighed, trying to close the front door of his small apartment; regrettably, Red stopped him before the door shut in her sad face.
 "I know he doesn't want to see me." She said with a shaky voice—causing Namjoon to purse his lips into a thin line.
"Right." He couldn’t help but say. She deserved the snarky remark for hurting Jeongguk beyond repair.
 "But I'm worried about him. H-He mad when he left."
 'Who wouldn't?' Namjoon wanted to say, yet he kept his lips glued together. He needed to remind himself that albeit the fact that she hurt Jeongguk, Red was still his friend.
"I'm sure he'll be fine wherever he is." Namjoon’s caught Red’s eyes. "Jeongguk is strong, you know.”
 "I know." She looked at her feet; this caused the man inside the house to also look down.
 Namjoon was so busy shooing Red away that he didn't notice a big box on the ground. Judging by the looks of it, he deduced that this box belonged to Jeongguk. The tower of sketchpads and other art materials were already a giveaway.
 "Can you give this to him, though? I'm not sure when I'll get to see him again and I know he can't live without this stuff so...” Red picked up the box. "Please, Joonie..." She added when the older boy didn’t say anything.
 In the end, Namjoon gave in. He didn’t have a choice. This was the only way to make her leave; however, he instantly regretted his decision the moment he spotted Jeongguk sitting on the couch.
 "What did she say?" Jeongguk inquired eagerly, his eyes flew on the box that's juggling in Namjoon's arms. Jeongguk saw his friend trip over a non-existent stone.
 Namjoon was really clumsy.
 "She wants me to give this to you." The older boy handed the box to Jeongguk in exchange of his precious daughter.
"Ji-eun..." Namjoon cooed, bopping the nose of his three year-old child. Ji-eun chuckled; her little finger was poking her father's deep dimple.
 "Appa!" Ji-eun’s eyes twinkled. She missed being in her father's embrace even though it hadn’t been long since Namjoon left her with Jeongguk.
 Ji-eun couldn’t help it. Jeongguk used to be the fun uncle, but all he did now was cry and snort. Admittedly, she’s getting tired of wiping his tears every second.
 She wondered who made uncle Jeongguk cry.
 “Huh.” Jeongguk huffed as he examined what’s inside the box. Namjoon was right. It’s full of the younger boy’s personal stuff.
 “Is she really so eager to kick me out of the house that she personally brought my things here!?”
 Jeongguk was seeing red. Profanities left his lips as acid dripped down his stomach. He’s so mad at his ex.
“Language, Jeon.” Namjoon warned, turning away from Jeongguk. He couldn’t let Ji-eun listen to the younger boy’s dirty mouth. “Besides, you’re the one who left.”
 Jeongguk didn’t know how to respond to that, mainly because Namjoon was correct. He was the one who left in the middle of the fight. In his defense, he was hurt. What Red was saying was too much for him—it was painful, the kind of pain that he knew would forever haunt him.
 “I love him, Guk.”
 Red’s confession echoed in Jeongguk’s mind again. Red told him she loved her soulmate. Jeongguk didn’t want to believe her because how? How could she fall in love with another man just by looking at him in the eyes?
 “We’ve been seeing each other for months now.”
 His question had been answered. Red was a cheater and it’s the last straw for Jeongguk. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he stood up.
 “I hate you, bitch!”
 The pain that crossed Red’s face indicated that Jeongguk had gone too far. He didn’t mean it, but he’s hurt and this was the only way he could hurt her back.
Before Red could say anything, Jeongguk was already out of the door.
 It’s two am in the morning. Jeongguk was certain that the only awake person that he could bother right now was none other than Namjoon, his brother in law.
Thankfully, Namjoon’s apartment was just a few blocks away from Red’s home.
 “Guk?” Namjoon squinted his eyes after opening the door. He’s been awake for straight twenty seven hours to the point that he couldn’t tell if Jeongguk was really in front of him or if he’s just hallucinating.
 “Hyung...” Jeongguk broke into tears upon seeing his only family.
 Namjoon let the crying boy inside his house.
“I ran out of tea...” This was Namjoon’s excuse when he handed Jeongguk Ji-eun’s milk. Namjoon didn’t even have time to buy his groceries since his daughter was occupying most of his time.
 Fortunately, it looked like Jeongguk didn’t give two fucks as he was already half-way finished drinking the warm milk.
It’s been exactly fifteen minutes since the younger boy came knocking on Namjoon’s humble abode. Jeongguk had stopped crying, though he still looked a little shaken.
“Red found her soulmate...” Jeongguk spoke right before Namjoon could ask what happened.
 Suddenly, the older boy found himself biting his bottom lip. He didn’t want to pry about Jeongguk’s life, but then he’s reminded of the wish of Hye-Jin, his late wife.
 “Take care of my brother, Joon...”
 “D-Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asked before he changed his mind. This was the least thing he could do for Hye-Jin.
 “What’s there to talk about?” Jeongguk hissed in spite the fact that he’s the one who started telling Namjoon things. The latter kept his head low, in times like this; he wasn’t sure what to say.
 It’s not like he’s better than Red. Namjoon also broke up with the woman he was dating right after meeting Hye-Jin. The only difference was that Namjoon’s ex perfectly understood the situation. She knew that they weren’t destined to be together.
 “She cheated on me. She said she’s in love with her soulmate.” The bitter taste in Jeongguk’s mouth was still there. It only strengthened as soon as the word ‘soulmate’ left his lips.
 Jeongguk continued pouring his heart out to Namjoon despite saying that he didn’t want to talk about it.
 “She’s going to regret leaving me. No one can love her the way I do!” Jeongguk swore, but Namjoon’s almost 100% sure he’s wrong.
 Seeing colors was different. It felt like everything was perfect. Namjoon couldn’t deny the fact that one of the many reasons why he fell in love with Hye-Jin was because she helped him see the wonderful hues.
 It’s like the more he fell in love with her, the brighter the colors became. Even now that she’s dead, Namjoon could still see colors. Granted that it kind of faded, it’s still the best thing Namjoon was proud to experience.
 The rule of the world was simple. As long as your soulmate was in love with you, the colors would always be visible in your very eyes. It would only become less bright if your soulmate dies. However, the case of a one-sided love was different. People wouldn’t be able to see colors if their soulmates didn’t give them their hearts.
 Some said that there were cases wherein people go blind when their soulmates started to hate them. Namjoon and Jeongguk didn’t know if it was true or just a myth. After all, they hadn’t encountered people who apparently ‘went’ blind because of the mentioned reason.
 “I’m telling you, hyung. She’ll come see me soon.”
 Jeongguk was right. Two weeks after their fight, Red showed up, unfortunately, it’s not to beg her ex to come back. She only returned a box full of his stuff, a clear sign that she’s officially kicking him out of their shared apartment.
 “How can she do this to me? It’s my house too!” Said Jeongguk nine days after Red’s appearance in front of Namjoon’s apartment, it finally dawned to him that his ex was no longer a part of his life.
 It’s really over.
 Jeongguk realized this while staring dumbly at his ruined sketchpads. Ji-eun accidentally spilled a glass of water on her uncle’s drawing.
 The mixture of pain, anger, and frustration caused Jeongguk to scream. He couldn’t possibly be mad at a three year-old kid that’s why he just directed his negative emotions to the fact that Red practically kicked him out of their home—his home.
 He was aware that Red’s name was the one written in the lease contract, but Jeongguk paid this year’s rental fee. He’s broke at the moment. This being the case, Jeongguk swallowed his pride to come live with his brother in law. The thing was, it’s getting hard for him to stay there. Namjoon had only one room so Jeongguk slept on the couch—wait, this wasn’t about right. Jeongguk didn’t even get to sleep. Ji-eun’s cries wouldn’t allow him to do so. Aside from this, the little kid had also ruined her uncle’s drawings countless of times now.
 “Seriously, Guk. You need to move out of your brother-in-law’s house.” Taehyung pouted his lips.
 Jeongguk couldn’t decide if he could take his friend’s advice seriously, at least not when Taehyung’s tongue was basically down Jimin’s throat.
 “I can’t afford to lease a new place.” Jeongguk scrunched his nose, eyes still focused on the disgusting public display of affection in front of him. “I only have forty dollars in my bank account.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Jimin slightly pushed his boyfriend’s chest to dodge his kisses and to be able to look at Jeongguk.
 Jeongguk snorted. He didn’t want to be babied, especially not by Park Jimin who he met just a few months back.
Park Jimin was Taehyung’s real soulmate. It was still weird seeing them together. All his life, Jeongguk believed that Taehyung, his childhood best friend, was a straight man. Taehyung dated a lot of women before, he also seemed to enjoy being with them.
 This was one of the reasons why Jeongguk hated the idea of soulmate. It was a complete bull. It was unfair to let fate decide who you’ll end up with. Jeongguk witnessed Taehyung’s struggle after meeting Jimin. He was happy that he’s finally able to see colors and that it didn’t take him long to like Jimin, but Taehyung was so confused.
 Just like Jeongguk, Taehyung also thought that he was straight, but then his world suddenly turned upside down. Before he knew it, Taehyung was crying. He was too overwhelmed with what’s happening and Jeongguk hated it. The latter didn’t care about genders; he was actually a supporter of those who don’t identify themselves as heterosexual. What Jeongguk hated was the fact that people had to limit what they thought their gender was just because of the concept of soulmate. Again, it was not fair.
 “But I can help you...” Jimin added as he took a bite of his frozen yogurt. They were currently inside of an ice cream shop. Jeongguk had to get out of Namjoon’s home since it was getting hard to look at his ruined works. He called his best friend to help him destress. Jeongguk just had to let his frustrations out. Luckily, Taehyung and Jimin were more than happy to treat their younger friend some frozen yogurts. Jeongguk ordered three of the said dessert.
 “No, Jimin.” Taehyung said as if he’s read his boyfriend’s mind. “Jeonggukie isn’t going to suck your dick for money.”
 “Aw.” Jimin’s lips protruded into a sulky pout, making Jeongguk roll his eyes. Sometimes he couldn’t believe the couple’s relationship. Jeongguk knew that Jimin was only joking, but Jeongguk thought he couldn’t let the love of his life think about someone else’s body. He was pretty possessive.
 “We can call Yoongi-hyung, though. I think he’s in the mood for some dicks—”
 “Guys!” Jeongguk groaned, cutting them off. His eyes were widening too. “Can we stop talking about dicks for five seconds? I have a serious problem here.”
 “Oh, right!” Jimin’s eyes lit up. He also cleared his throat—an action that made Jeongguk sigh in relief, at least he’s getting serious now. “You need to find a roommate, Guk. Lucky for you, I have a friend who’s looking for a housemate. I think she could cut you off some slack.”
 The younger boy’s scoff was almost instant. “Cut me off some slack?” He narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “I don’t want to owe anything to anyone. You know that.”
 Jimin shrugged his shoulders, taking another bite of his frozen yogurt. “It’s not like that. You’ll actually be the one doing her a favor. She’s in dire need of a roommate, Guk. She wouldn’t mind if you couldn’t pay rent right now, as long as you’re willing to keep the house clean and look after her cat. You can do that right?”
 Of course Jeongguk could. He was an artist; he spent most of his time inside his home, silently drawing whatever came into his mind.
 “Huh.” Jeongguk was still skeptical. “Can’t she just hire a maid?”
 “Wish it was that easy. She’s a mess. Not even her maids can tolerate her shit. Besides, her cat is a total bitch. She scratches anyone that’s not her owner.”
 “I’m not sure...” Jeongguk scowled. He wasn’t sure if he could live with a stranger. Jeongguk was a shy boy, it actually took him a long time to even say ‘hello’ to Jimin.
 “Just think about it, Jeongguk...” Jimin smiled warmly at the younger boy. “I swear she’s a decent person. Yes, she’s messy, but aside from that, she’s fine. She doesn’t pry on anyone’s life; she’s quiet, just like you and oh! She likes banana milk too! I swear, Guk. You’ll like her!”
 For some reason, Jeongguk’s heart skipped a beat. He knew Jimin was kind, he’s the type of person who always talked about the good qualities of a certain someone, but this was the first time he spoke about someone with such passion.
 Jimin continued to talk about you, his lovely best friend. If you could hear him right now, you were sure you’d end up crying. Jimin was truly the best friend you could ask for. He’s fiercely loyal.
 “It’s true, Guk. You’ll love her.” Taehyung talked about you with the same intensity. He had met you and he instantly fell in love with you. You were smart and witty.
 The couple continued sharing things they loved about you. Jeongguk swore he’s not easy to convince, the only acceptable reason why he’s standing in front of your apartment was because Taehyung and his boyfriend knew the magic of words. They had done a good job convincing him.
 Jeongguk let out an exasperated breath when you still didn’t answer the door after his ninth attempt to knock. Truthfully, he was getting pissed off.
 Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
 Just as when he’s about to leave, the door suddenly opened with so much force. Jeongguk was actually startled.
 “I’m sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking so I slipped down the floor and I...” You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.
 “Oh, my God!” You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jeongguk to see his reaction.
 You were rambling about how this whole situation was so embarrassing, but Jeongguk wasn’t listening anymore. How could he focus on anything when his heart was beating this fast?
 Jeongguk was pissed before he met your eyes, right now; the irritation he felt was rapidly boiling down to panic when he realized what was happening.
 Jeongguk was used to seeing black and white, so imagine his confusion when the colors suddenly became visible in his eyes.
 Nothing made sense to him, but one thing’s for sure.
 Jeongguk had found his soulmate...
765 notes · View notes
sungiest · 8 months ago
Finger Lickin’ Good ⇢ MYG
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
⇢ Pairing: Manager!Yoongi x Reader 
⇢ Genre: Smut, Crack, Exs to Lovers, PWP(ish)
⇢ Word Count: 4.9k  ⇢ Rating: M
⇢ Summary: As if starting a new job isn’t nerve wracking enough, it just so happens that your ex FWB gets to train you. OR Yoongi is a raging vegan working at KFC who’s more focused on proving a point than training a new employee.
⇢ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, edging, cockwarming (for like a minute but still), orgasm denial, hate sex, unfinished orgasm, begging, teasing, bad vegan jokes
⇢ Banner made by the wonderful @dee-ehn​ and beta read by my favorite ladies @jinterlude​ @hobiance​ and @jinned​♡
⇢ Apart of the Fast Fucking Food collab hosted by @jinned​! Check out the entire masterlist here
Tumblr media
The repetitive clicking of your blinker carries on, the quick rhythm matching the thumping beats of your heart. You’re about to pull into Kentucky Fried Chicken, or what the locals call KFC. It's been quite a while since you’ve been here, maybe a few years. But after losing your job the small town you lived in had few options to offer.
Luckily, the KFC nearby had a help wanted sign posted in their window. Without a second thought, you marched into the store to retrieve an application, and before you knew it, you were hired.
That was just a few days ago. Jisung, the hiring manager, loved your application so much that he asked you to start right away. So after receiving your hat and uniform, today is finally the day.
First days on the job are always intimidating, that's for sure. But for some reason, you have a good feeling about today. It's like getting a fresh start, starting over in a new place where no one knows who you are, and getting to make new friendships you wouldn't have otherwise.
Pulling into the back of the lot under Jisung's previous orders, you find a spot sectioned out reading 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' painted onto the pavement. Your heart pounds in your chest as an excited smile grows on your face, the car is put into park as you jiggle the keys out of the ignition.
Nimble fingers fidget with the overhead visor, pulling it down to check your appearance in the small mirror. Not that it was much help, you had to shift around in your seat to get a clear view, but it was enough to see that your visor was a bit crooked and needed fixing.
Anticipation grows as you approach the double doors of the building, smoothing out the black fabric of your uniform while your paces quicken.
To your own demise, the restaurant is fairly busy today. Immediately your thoughts turn to worries, thinking about how difficult it will be to be trained while trying to juggle an influx of customers. But it is dinnertime, so maybe by the end of the night things will cool down.
There's only one employee that you can see behind the counter, an average height man with dirty blonde hair. You can only see his backside, though, the strands of his hair poking out of the back of his cap and tickling the back of his neck.
Swallowing thickly, you approach the counter, tapping your foot gently against the tile floors as you try to muster up the courage to introduce yourself.
"Hi, um–" you begin, the man behind the counter paying you no mind as you continue, "I'm Y/N, I'm supposed to start working today."
With a snap of his neck, the man is quickly whipping around from his backward facing position to meet your eyes.
"Sorry about that, I'm–"
His words are cut off by his own jaw, dropping to the floor at the sight of you before him. And you couldn't blame him, as your own jaw is following suit as your eyes bulge out of your head.
"Yoongi?" Your voice carries louder than expected. One customer turns their head towards you, wondering what all the fuss is about. But as soon as you notice the strange look they were giving you, their eyes dart in the opposite direction to avoid your glare.
"You're the new girl?" He spats, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as an annoyed sigh leaves his lips. He's sitting back onto his heels now, arms crossed over his chest as spiteful eyes glare in your direction.
It's not enough to make you uncomfortable though, you're too busy rolling your own eyes right back before a scoff passes your lips.
“What are you doing here, I thought you were vegan?”
“Yeah. This place fucking disgusts me.” An annoyed chuckle leaves his lips, amused with your quick comeback, clearly caught off guard with each other's presence.
You stand in silence, just glaring at each other, for what feels like hours – but in reality, it's only seconds before Yoongi speaks up yet again.
"So this is gonna be a fun night." Sarcasm drips from his tongue as a hearty sigh leaves his lips. Furrowing your brows in question, you wait for him to elaborate. "I'm the training manager, you're with me for the night."
"Great," you can feel the heat rise to your face, sealing your fate for the next 6 hours of your life with a stamp of misery.
His head nods to the left, motioning you to follow him around back. Relentlessly, you follow his unsaid orders, dragging your feet as you find your way behind the counter.
"This is where you clock in." He signals to the computer, tapping a few buttons on the screen to show you what to do. It seemed simple enough, probably could have figured it out yourself if you really wanted to but you're probably just bitter that your ex is standing less than 2 feet away from you.
Well, the term ex should be used loosely. Especially seeing that you were only together for 2 months, and it wasn't even official.
It seems like just yesterday you were swiping right and matching with Yoongi on tinder. It didn't take very long for him to reach out to you, asking if you wanted to come over to watch a movie sometime soon. We all know what that means; and before you knew it, you were friends with benefits. It was short-lived, though.
You were the one that broke things off with him. He was just too boring for your taste, wasn't very good at conversation, and the brunt of it all – he was a vegan. Things stopped working out the second you brought a pint of ice cream to his house to snack on before one of your hookups. The look of disgust plastered on his face as he stared at the mint chocolate chip ice cream said it all–and it wasn't because of the controversial flavor.
He was angry, beyond frustrated that you even thought it was alright to purchase such a thing. For the rest of the night, he didn’t speak to you. Finding Nemo was watched in complete silence from opposite ends of the couch. There wasn’t a word or touch shared between the two of you. And once the movie was finished, you silently packed your things and left, never speaking to Yoongi again.
If that was the only instance it would have been fine, something that you could easily look over. He’s attractive enough to make you forget about his raging veganism. But he was the most boring person that you have ever met. 
Conversations always ran dry if you weren’t carrying them, and the sex...oh the sex. It was just as vanilla as the ice cream that Yoongi so despises. Every time was like a routine, you go to his apartment, engage in about 10 minutes of foreplay, have sex (in missionary, obviously, and then you left. He didn’t say much, either – so you weren’t even sure that he was actually into you.
But eventually those vanilla hookups were enough for you, in need of someone else to wind you up and tie you down to keep you going. But unfortunately, Yoongi was never the one to do that.
"Y/N," a voice sterner than you’re used to shaking you out of your day-dreaming state. "Did you listen to anything that I just said?"
Slowly, your jaw drops caught off guard by his voice and bringing you back to the present day. You try your best to hide it with a smile, fake as ever, but it was your knee jerk reaction to completely ignoring him. It's a shame he’s still just as boring as he’s always been.
“Oh! Y-yeah of course,” you lie through your teeth. Like you’d ever admit to ignoring him, especially now that he’s in charge.
“Really?” A soft chuckle brushes past his lips. He doesn’t believe a word you say, the awful liar that you are. “What did I say then?”
Lip catching between your teeth, trying to come up with some kind of excuse without digging yourself into a deeper hole than you’re already in. The silence between the two of you lasts too long, quickly becoming uncomfortable as his eyes narrow at you. The air around you is growing thicker, heavier, the noticeable bob of your throat as you swallow dryly evident to Yoongi.
“That’s what I thought,” his eyes roll in secession with his words, filled with attitude and annoyance. You could have sworn you heard him scoff, fingers balling into small fists at your sides to try and control the frustration building in your body. Boring and arrogant, what a combo he is.
“Well, I don’t have time to explain that all again so I hope you can manage to figure things out yourself,” he’s just pressing you further at this point, the muscles in your body tightening with each word that passes his lips, “I have to go work something out at the drive-thru, take that customer right there.”
Your gaze quickly follows his extended index finger, pointing ahead to an older woman standing on the opposite side of the counter. Propping up, you straighten your back, hands quickly lifting to your visor to wiggle it into place before putting on your best customer service voice. “Hi, ma’am! What can I get for you today?”
“I’ll take a number 9, the five-piece tenders with a Pepsi,” she speaks as her eyes glance upwards, verifying her order on the menu above.
“Coming right up! Anything else today ma’am?”
“That will be all.”
Easy enough, yet your eyes scan the rows of colorful buttons on the screen in front of you searching for the right one. Number 9…Were you supposed to know what was in that off the top of your head?
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah-Yes! One moment please,” customer service smile plastered across your face, your heart begins to race. Apparently, more time has passed than you realized while you were staring at the screen in front of you.
After mentally cursing yourself out for not listening to Yoongi earlier, you contemplate just calling him back over and asking for help. All it could do was hurt your pride a little bit; you know he’ll just pull one of those ‘I told you so’ lines, but at least you’d be able to just move on. Especially if the alternative is making a customer mad on your first day.
Cocking your head to the right, you let your body follow behind. And there he was, standing right behind you to watch your every move.
“Need some help?”
The arrogance is dripping from his tone, lips curled upwards into a knowing smirk. He is so irritating. Just the look on his face bothers you so much that you’re tightening your hands into fists behind the counter. 
But even though you need to accept his help, your own voice fails you, nodding your head in response instead as the sound of his footsteps moves closer to you. The tension in the air is thick, so full of agitation that you can’t seem to stand still. You need a break already – did you even get one of those tonight? There isn’t much that you seem to know, and even more that you’re not willing to ask the smug training manager.
Yoongi’s fingers tap the screen of the register, clicking through the digital program to find the woman’s order. He’s moving too quickly for you to even watch what he’s doing. Not able to pick up on anything that he just did to learn from it.
“We’ll have that right out for you ma’am, have a great night.” His deep voice speaks as the receipt is handed over, and that’s when you notice the growing pink blush landing on the woman’s cheeks. 
The smile fades from his face as he turns to you, expression dropping into a solemn frown. “Couldn’t handle it on your own?”
Air catches in your throat before you can blurt out a response, stopping your words from coming out. It’s for the best, though; the anger rushing through your veins knows no bounds when it comes to Min Yoongi. Your eyes shut slowly, puffing out your chest with a deep inhale to calm yourself down.
“I could have figured it out if you weren't watching over me like a hawk.”
“Well, maybe you should have just listened to what I taught you in the first place.” 
Blood boiling with tension, your arms come up to cross over your chest. It’s the only thing holding you back from reaching out in front of you and gripping the collar of his stupid uniform.
“Well maybe if you weren’t so boring I would have actually wanted to listen.”
The words roll off your tongue before you’re able to stop them. Yoongi’s eyes are widening at your comeback, mouth slowly falling to the floor as the words process through his mind. 
“Boring, huh?” His head nods along with his words, teeth pulling his bottom lip inward as his stare burns through you. Embarrassed, you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. There isn’t much that you can say now to make it better, but there's an overwhelming feeling of guilt filling your system now that you’ve actually come clean about your feelings.
“It's fine. Just forget about it.”
Head dropping as he walks away, you know you’ve fucked up, forgetting how sensitive this man actually is. But the thought of having to work with him for 5 more hours until the restaurant closes weighs heavy on your mind, and you’re not quite sure how to make this better now.
Tumblr media
There are only 30 minutes left of your shift and tonight has been...strange to say the least.
Yoongi walked away once you called him boring, going to sulk in the break room for a good 15 minutes before coming back out.
But when he came back, it wasn't the Yoongi you recognized. He was being...funny? Trying to make you laugh and engaging in small talk – even asking about your friend Jimin who works down the strip at Dairy Queen. This isn’t a Yoongi that you know, the boring non-conversational guy that you used to sleep with regularly. It’s almost like he’s trying to prove something to you. Whether it be that you’ve been missing out during that time you ghosted him or what… something was weird.
“Y/N!” A peppy voice calls to you from the back. Yoongi. Where all this pep came from was quite the mystery, but you’re beginning to find it more irritating than the Yoongi you’ve grown to know.
“Hey,” your voice perks up at the end trying to meet his energy. It sounds fake, really unnecessary, but you aren’t about to question this shift of behavior so you’ll have to play along. “What’s up!?”
“You’re closing shop with me tonight,” a quick snap of his fingers quickly turning into finger guns are shot in your direction. It's quite uncomfortable if you do so quickly realize – this energetic demeanor he’s giving off. It feels forced. The way his cheeks pull back to expose a bright smile is anything but natural. But you digress, unable to say anything else that could get on his nerves tonight.
“Sounds great!” You’re returning his enthusiasm with another fake smile. It feels disgusting acting like this.
Customers and coworkers are leaving the restaurant left and right, time ticking by slower and slower with each person gone. Every time someone leaves it gets closer and closer to the alone time you’ll have to spend with Yoongi. There’s nothing you’re dreading more, expecting him to upfront ask you what happened and why you started ignoring his texts all of a sudden. Or even worse – why you think he’s boring.
As time ticks on that feeling of anticipation racking at your bones only grows. Stomach twisting with apprehension as you watch each person leave the restaurant. He hasn’t spoken much since he’s told you that you’re staying to close tonight, other than to tell you what to clean and where to find the supplies for it. But you’ve been keeping your distance too, opting to clean the tables and floors on the opposite side of the building than Yoongi. That was the easiest way to avoid him.
What you’re trying to focus on is the white rag that's soaked with sanitizer you're using to swipe across the table in front of you. The chemical smell of the cleaner is what fills the restaurant now, the fried chicken smell being drowned out by the lemon-scented fragrance. But the sound of footsteps approaching up behind you catches you off guard, and the voice that follows it does even more so.
“Y/N,” his hands are rubbing together, shoulders shrugging while you turn to face him. He’s filled to the brim with nerves, feeling more awkward about the situation than he’s letting on. It’s his own fault that he’s made you stay to close shop with him. But he had to…
The sound of his voice startles you, straightening up quickly from your bent-over position. A wide grin is spread across his face, just as fake as the one you’d seen earlier. It takes everything in you to return the gesture, cheeks pulling as you enthuse, “Yoongi! Hi!”
“I think we’re just about done here.”
His gaze travels around the restaurant to check the status of your cleaning. Everything was done and ready to go, well at least you thought so.
“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then.” This time your smile is genuine; relieved that you finally get to go home and recover from the longest shift you’ve ever worked – or at least it feels that way.
But when you’re shifting on your heels to make a b-line for the door, something grabs a hold of your wrist. Your mouth runs dry, swallowing thickly in reaction to the contact of his skin against yours; his heart is racing alongside yours as an uncomfortable silence falls among you.
That's the only word that leaves his mouth. A direct order that you are too nervous to disobey. The air surrounding you has grown heavy, your breathing becoming more labored as you meet his eyes. 
They’re dark, full of lust, and scanning your body up and down. Eyes devouring you, undressing you in his own mind. He’d never imagined that you’d look this good in a KFC uniform; your black pants hug you in all the right places. 
“So you think I’m boring hmm,” he hums, his voice deep and gravely. It reminds you of the way he used to talk to you when you were hooking up. That doesn't stop the distant memory from rising to the top of your mind and sending shockwaves right to your core.
“I-I... no!”
A smirk lifts his lips as he notices how bothered you are. He’s always found it cute how you stumble over your words when he turns you on. And he loves the effect that he has on you, which is why your wrist is still locked into his grasp as he leans down to press his lips to your ear.
“That’s why you ghosted me, right Y/N?”
The whisper tone of his words sends a shiver down your spine, visibly arching your back in response to the tickling sensation. It’s too late to turn around and walk out now, you’re too worked up, feeling the slick from your core beginning to leak onto your underwear.
“I’m s-sorry.”
“Hmm, I can tell.”
Curious to how that could be, your brow furrows as you glance up to his needy eyes.
“Your cheeks flush when you’re turned on, I can feel the heat of your body from here.”
You swallow thickly, mouth widening but having nothing to say. Shocked that this was something that he picked up on from your time together, something that you haven’t even noticed yourself.
But you don’t like that this is the effect he’s having on you, teasing you into ruining your panties while he’s snickering in response. So you do what you do best, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and plant your lips onto his.
He’s not even taken off guard when you do this, instinctively moving his lips against yours in languid motions before running his tongue across your bottom lip. No, he wasn’t into taking his time, but that's something you’re definitely appreciating right about now. 
His hands snake down to your waist to pull your body closer to him. He’s got no shame, you can tell the way his fingers are slowly crawling down your ass and giving it a good squeeze. All you can do is kiss him harder, sloppier, rougher. The ache in your core is beginning to feel unbearable. You needed him here, now.
Pulling away in a hot daze, his warm breath fans over your skin as his forehead rests on yours. “Yoongi,” you whine, dragging out the last syllable of his name, “want your cock inside me.”
Your eyes are closed but you can feel the change in his breathing pattern, feeling his forehead shift as his lips morph into a grin. 
“Want me to fuck you, hmm?”
His words leave a lingering effect, physically unable to stand on your own two feet without the support of his hands around your waist. A nod of your head is all that you have to offer in response, but he understands fully.
“Turn around,” the words are whispered into your ear, and you obey. Placing your hands flat on the table behind you as you stick your ass out promptly.
Yoongi wastes no time taking the initiative to shimmy your pants down your legs, dropping the fabric right to the floor to pool around your ankles. The growing wet stain on your panties is fully visible to him now.  
“So wet for me already,” you shiver as a deep, lust-filled voice leaves Yoongi’s lips, his fingers slowly pulling the fabric of your panties to the side before diving in.
One finger is all it takes to have you keening into the table, elbows going limp and bending onto the table. The satisfied chuckle that brushes past his lips 
“Fuck, Yoongi. Feels so good,” your fingers stretch as you try to find something to grip onto, but the slick texture of the table does no good. Unsure where all this desire is coming from, but you can’t help but grind down onto Yoongi’s fingers, needy for more of his touch. 
“Please” the words pant past your lips, “please, more.”
The bulge that he’s pressing up against your leg is doing nothing but teasing you. Each time his finger slides in and out of you he ruts into your ass, jerking your body forward with the sensation. But you’re bent over the table, unable to reach out for his hardened member to give him the attention he so desires.
Your only option is to throw your ass back into him, rubbing up against his hard cock to tease him. A steep moan leaves his lips, but the way his other hand grips around your ass tells you he’s not satisfied.
“Such a tease,” he shakes his head, one hand coming down to leave a swift slap on your ass. You jump in reaction; partially in shock from his action but also so turned on. Instantly whining in reaction, the quick tinge of pain quickly turns to pleasure. Arousal floods from your core as his hand rubs over the affected area, soothing the hot skin with his soft palm.
If the spanking isn't a punishment enough, Yoongi’s fingers slip from inside of you. The sensation leaves you feeling bare, needy, and completely empty without his fingers pumping into you. 
Quickly, Yoongi’s fingers are looping themselves under the band of your underwear and tugging them to meet your discarded clothing pooled at your ankles. 
His work pants are already halfway down his body before you have time to breathe. The fully erect member springing from the confines of the fabric and meeting the smooth skin of your ass. Your heart is pounding in your chest, you close your eyes lightly as you work to catch your breath. It's been a while since you’ve been turned on like this, and you surely were not expecting it to be Yoongi working you up like this.
Long fingers wrap around his cock, collecting precum at the tip before pumping it down his shaft slowly. His head is thrown back at the sensation, already imagining himself inside you once again. 
But you’re laid out on the table, throbbing without any sort of contact and dripping by the second. 
“Yoongi, please,” you whine, so airy and out of breath, “please fuck me.”
If you weren’t so desperate for him you may not have heard him sneer. A breathy laugh leaves his lips as one hand strokes your ass gently.
“Boring, hmm. Just what I thought.”
His voice is stern; teasing but direct. Rolling your eyes, you give in, unwilling to play another game of cat and mouse while he already has you bent over and ready for the taking.
“Yoongi I-,” you moan, “I’m sorry.” Your hands outstretched on the table, waiting for him as he lines himself up with your entrance. The light pressure of his tip pressed against you makes you stir, bouncing your leg in anticipation as you wait for him to push forwards.
A loud gasp escapes through your lips as his thick member presses into you; your velvety walls squeezing the veiny ridges of his member. The familiar stretch is delicious, back arching off the table to try and contain yourself. 
There is one thing that you did miss about Yoongi when you stopped hooking up – his size. His veiny member was the perfect length, always pushing against your g-spot just right with each thrust. You missed it more than you remembered, the memories all flooding back to you at once now.
You can’t help but clench down on him as you adjust to his size. Bottoming out his trusts, your walls squeeze his thickness instinctively. Curses leave his lips in the form of mumbles as his member is squeezed from every angle. The arousal spilling from your cunt coating every inch of his member. 
Yoongi’s hands quickly find their place on your hips, holding you steady as he begins to rock his cock into you. He slides in and out of you with a deep moan, sending more arousal to your core than you thought was possible. He makes sure to bottom out each time, taking his time to pull out and then slam himself into you with such force.
“So,” his words come out in the form of pants, “fucking tight.” The sound of another moan fills the room, his thrusts already picking up in pace. It's beginning to get hard for you to keep up, with nothing to hold onto but the slick surface of the table it's hard to hold back. 
The power of his thrusts only increases, the force of his hips rocking into you and pushing his member up against your g-spot repeatedly.
The sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat fill your ears. Soft whines bubble past your lips with each thrust, his power shaking you and the table that's bolted into the floor.
You swear you could cum from just the raspy sound of his voice.
“I missed this pussy.” 
“So...close…” you manage to get out while you pant for air. You can feel the knot twisting in your stomach, and you knew it would snap if he keeps on like this.
“Close, princess?” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The pet name is what gets you, never hearing such things leave his mouth before. 
“Y-yes,” your walls are already beginning to spasm, but suddenly the pace of his thrusts is growing weaker. 
And then he stops, cock buried fully into your core but immobile. Squirming in place, you do your best to grind back onto him - but nothing helps.
“Yoongi, please!”
His body is laying over yours, chest pressed to your back before resting his head by your ear.
“Boring guys don’t make you cum, do they?”
And just like that, his member is removed from your throbbing hole as your body aches at the loss of contact. Mouth falling open in shock, you quickly whip your body around to face him.
A sadistic grin is spread across his face, his pants already up to his thighs. Your eyes are focused on his fingers latching his belt into a loop, jaw still hung open while your mind floods with disbelief.
“I’m sure you can finish yourself off, princess.”
And with no other words spoken he's pacing to the back, probably headed to the breakroom to grab his keys. You were not entirely sure, but you did know that you didn’t want to be here once he got back. In an instant, you’re shuffling to get dressed and grab your keys off the counter. 
Working at KFC will be even worse than you thought.
Tumblr media
‘Finger Lickin’ Good’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.
⇢ my masterlist
⇢ taglist: @tellmeyoulovemepls​ @missmxqn​
Tumblr media
495 notes · View notes
btsficfinds · 9 months ago
i am looking for this drabble/writing. i used google, looked through your tags, but it’s not there unfortunately! it’s this yoongi centric neighbors au where the oc is bothered by his lemon tree because the tree ruins her plants (or something??). i also remember a part where yg had his nieces over to open a lemonade stand, and yoongi left a jug of lemonade at oc’s porch? that’s all i can recall! thanks regardless of whether or not you find it!
hi, this was found by googling:
yoongi "neighbor" "lemon tree" tumblr
and as you can see, it appears in the results
Tumblr media
for this search, i didn’t include the words “reader “or “bts fanfic” because you said it was a drabble and sometimes writers tend to not include “x reader” or tag it as “bts fanfic” in their drabbles.
anyway, this is so sour by @hayjeon!
- admin dawn
3 notes · View notes