Strawberry Kisses | JJK (18+)

strawberry kisses 🍓⊹｡ෆ | JJK (18+)

♡chapters: one / two / three / four / drabble♡

​⊹🍓series ❤︎ ˚ ༘ ⋆

❥pairing: badboy!jungkook X virgin!reader // black!reader

❥genre: acquaint. to lovers AU, university AU, angst, drama, smut

❥summary: Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…

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❥!!warnings!!: very descriptive virgin talk, reader is a ‘pure’ virgin [hymen], ‘virginity’, ‘v-card’, being scared about sex, eventual slight yandere jungkook, allusions to unsafe decisions and past toxic relationships [PLEASE ADHERE❣️]

❥other warnings: oral fem receiving, fingering, heavy petting, sex sex sex on reader’s mind 24/7, plotting, princess nickname, fuckboy AND badboy jungkook⭐️, stoner jungkook, weed, alcohol, jungkook’s an undercover munch okay, and some shit he says and thinks is very vulgar, light choking, brown coochie desc [cause yeah tee hee], ‘strawberry’ used a lot, first time experiences, grunge/2000s vibe for their appearances and setting, grunge hottie with a y2k babe🎀

❥word count: 10.8k

-inspo: gif from btsjkgifs on tweet,

-jungkook’s weed playlist: so high- dc | party girls- jeremih ft ludacris | into it, swim- chase atlantic | in for it remix

-author’s note: I finally got an actual virgin fic started cause I feel like phony virgins or determined virgins don’t get much show time in fics. Usually they’re shy and innocent, but I wanted insert to be that AND very set on what she wanted. I think it’s more realistic this way with how I wanted Jungkook’s character to compliment hers. Plus, I already did a corruption style type for Angel.

I hope you enjoy this and look forward to the next part! I can’t wait to finish 💗

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Jungkook was not the best influence on you.

In just a few months, you skipped more classes than you ever had in your academic life, started going to parties, dabbled in a harmless drug, and got stuck with a needle and ink for your first tattoo that signified this phase.

The stick-n-poke Jungkook did on your thigh wasn’t going to last forever—just as you suspected the friendship. It was lined perfectly though, as he was secretly artistic and a perfectionist.

It felt intimate, since you’d done one on him as well. A spider with a jagged abdomen and seven legs was hidden amongst his growing tattoo sleeve... He didn’t get it. Why you chose a sneaky arachnid as the symbol you saw fit for him, you mean. But he laughed and taunted you about your childish drawing skills, admiring your focused face as you carefully poked across his skin that night by the lake.

In your mind, Jungkook was the spider in your tame and boring life when the friendship started. Dangerous and cunning. You, the curious butterfly—like the ink on your thigh—that got too close to his web. All the hang outs and late nights were him spinning you in silk, around and around until he finally had you stuck and unmoving. He wouldn’t strike unless you moved first to get away.

Then he’d take what he wanted.

And you’d let him.

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The sexual tension between you and Jeon Jungkook was too high to ignore it.

But what did anyone expect to come from a blossoming friendship between a ran-through fuckboy with an attitude problem and a phony virgin.

There were lots of lingering touches and kisses and heavy petting to the point that was all you could think about instead of college work. You were more worried about having Jungkook balls-deep inside you rather than your next exam, experimenting on smoking weed or hitting his vape pen with him until morning.

Despite how fucked up he is, he’d been hooked on your mind since the day you met him. He was the one in all black with the tattoo sleeve, the piercings on his face, and a dark gaze that told you he wanted to do really bad shit to you.

Yeah. That guy.

Notorious badboy who lives faithfully by an “I don’t eat pussy” motto that doesn’t deter him from fucking anyone because he’s just that damn delicious to look at. He likes to get his dick wet with no strings attached and no promised special treatment in return.

Maybe it’s a bit misogynistic that he’ll gladly receive head and won’t give it, but he started lining up too specifically with your sexual desires, so you stayed around.

See, Jungkook keeps to himself. He’s a hit-it-and-quit-it, but his hookups are only known because they brag about how big and good of a fuck he is. Surely, he’d just give you the dick and leave. He wouldn’t boast about gaining another body nor would he name drop. Your not-so-innocent deed would remain a secret.

You’ve kissed quite a few guys up until junior year, some nerds that weren’t too shy to stick their tongue down your throat in the back of the campus library, but no one’s gotten far. Hell, Jungkook hasn’t gotten that far himself. Fondling you through your bra is nothing compared to the many girls he’s banged into oblivion.

Nonetheless, the asshole respects your boundaries. He can get real sex whenever he wants. You’re just a fun filler in-between his other hookups, a girl playing hard to get. He enjoys kissing on the cute, shy babe he sits next to in a math class he barely attends. Gets a thrill out of calling you princess to tease you, because he doesn’t know your real name.

What Jungkook also didn’t know was that you were undeniably on the same wavelength as him. Just in a sugarcoated format. You liked to play. You liked to kiss and touch and feel up on another body… But you were still the doe-like glint in your eyes that your makeup couldn’t shield, the timidness in your step that the cuff of your ass in your mini skirts and your cleavage couldn’t distract.

A virgin. With a very real v-card.

And okay, you get it. Jungkook has got to be the worst option to take it. Even now as you gaze at him he’s wickedly attractive, sporting a vintage band tee and a studded belt because his waist is too slutty to hold up his cargo jeans. His hair has grown into a mullet that fits his wild lifestyle and his sculpted face, curling around his neck where faded hickeys someone else has done stain his honey skin.

He’s a walking red flag.

But you can make your own rash decisions.

Jungkook gets to be so fucking easy and the epitome of a typical fuckboy. Why couldn’t you let this one thing happen for once and for all?

He’d do this quickly, too. Take you hard and fast when you tell him you want it. You’ve heard he fucks like a rabbit, so it’d go smoothly. No questions. Only two bodies bumping against each other to get their fill. Well, you wouldn’t know what the fuck you were doing, but he should be too selfishly horny to notice...

“Princess.”

His voice alone brings a plethora of goosebumps to your skin. You blink out of your dangerous state of mind as he blurs back into view.

“Hm?” You respond.

Jungkook smugly grins, dimples popping in his cheeks as his tongue teases the hoop in his bottom lip. He’d been fixated on you as you spaced out. You hadn’t answered his question for a full minute.

So he repeats himself. “I asked why you were soaking wet when I haven’t done anything to you…?”

“O-Oh.” You realize his hand is indeed up your skirt, the other pressing your hips to the door of your dorm room. You can’t remember the walk here or all the flirting done at the frat party to lead up to this. Clearly, you aren’t as calm as you told yourself you would be when Jungkook brought you to your demise.

It doesn’t help how odd and out of place he looks inside your hyper feminine dorm room either—pink decor, Sanrio plushies, and your strawberry perfume permeating the air in a thick cloud. He’s the only dark theme in your room, intruding the soft-core space with his mysterious aura and the smell of smokey cologne and weed.

There isn’t much talk about your girly decoration though, as Jungkook is eager to have you around his dick and invade your bedsheets with the scent of him. You’d been bold enough to finally take him to the women’s dorms you stayed in, sneaking him through the back door he knew all too well. Per university code, he was down to get fucked. You figured he’d understand what this meant you wanted from him…

Jungkook is rough as he presses his body closer, the passionate wetness of his tongue on your neck and the grip on your hips is nothing you’ve experienced before. You like that he’s not going slow, but the raw, carnal desire is terrifying.

Especially when you feel what he’s working with in his cargos. It grows heavier as his hands travel around your waist to underneath your skirt, grabbing handfuls of your ass and teasing the little thong you decided to slip on earlier. He goes as far as rubbing you right where his experienced fingers know your entrance would be, and, fuck, it feels so much different with having someone else in control of your pleasure.

You feel your panties getting stickier than ever at the mere fact that he’s warming you up for the inevitable. How quickly drenched he’s made you and the noise that escapes when he finds a sensitive spot on your skin. You moan his name, gripping his hand to get a sense of reality.

The fuckboy groans back, stopping to look at you. You can’t believe you’ve chosen death himself over the sweet, kind guy who’s been trying to get with you all month. Brandon would have been all lovey about this… but Jungkook is going to murder you. Specifically, your insides.

He knows it, too, with how he smirks at your flustered expression and panting lips. It makes you nervous that you’ve gotten this far, and you’re back to your shy, timid self when you think about what’s to come next. You’re so close to flaking and leaving him with a hard on once again, but you want this.

So you take it upon yourself to kiss him. It’s barely a peck, and you end up brushing his silver hoop piercing more than his rosey lips. His tongue flicks out to lick the residue of strawberry gloss you left on the corner of his mouth, and Jungkook becomes lost in the flavor of you.

He tilts your chin up and kisses you back.

It’s not gentle or polite like the one you gave him. His tongue demands dominance as soon as your lips touch, his muscle smoothing over the flesh of yours which has you thinking of badder things than tongue kissing. It’s sloppy and urges your hands all over each other, your hips flush together, Jungkook’s legs hitting the edge of your bed, and you nearly falling on top of him.

The way your hips begin grinding on him is so alluring... You’re such an enigma to him right now—as if you weren’t already—that he’s determined to use this opportunity to finally have what’s between your legs.

You become a bit more aggressive since you’re trying to keep up with Jungkook’s tempo and not get him bored, but you can’t help but feel anxious when he cups your chest, breaking the kiss to ogle the cleavage of your lace bra underneath your top. You go to move away, but he yanks you back down on his lap.

“Are you getting all shy on me again?” He whispers. “It’s nothing I’ve never seen before, princess.”

True… but you’ve never been naked in front of anyone else. Your fairy lights aren’t dim enough, and you didn’t think it’d be taking this long to get pounded. This is too intimate.

However, Jungkook is quick to divert your attention by rolling over on top of you. Your skirt rides up with the movement, and he gets a glimpse of delicate, pink panties decorated with a tiny bow. That hug your pussy like a present ready to be unwrapped. They correlate with your bra, too, and Jungkook heavily believes in matching sets gracing him with the best pussy he’s ever had. You’re so done for.

Jungkook admiring how the baby pink contrasts beautifully against your brown skin forces your legs shut in fear. You had worn the lingerie for him, but you didn’t expect staring. Where is his urgency to put his dick in you?

Apparently, nowhere to be found as he follows you further back on your bed, eyes curious and enticing, sizing you up. He hovers over you when your pillows and plushies make it impossible to go further, the skull pendant on the silver chain around his neck dangling in your face.

You clearly want this, otherwise you wouldn’t have said what you said at the party or sent those texts all last night. You’re just too shy to go for what you want, and Jungkook finds it adorable. He chuckles at how skittish and scared you’re being, trying to calm your nerves with some humor.

“What are you, a virgin?” He asks.

It’s a joke. At first. Until you bite down on your tongue and avoid his eyes for a second, unable to maintain your faux confidence any longer.

Jungkook freezes.

Shit.

“No way…” he mumbles, looking at how sexy you are laid out underneath him. It seemed he was contemplating on dipping or not giving an ounce of a fuck that you had never done this before.

He’s suddenly conflicted on how you’ve gotten this far undetected. It makes sense when he reminisces about your bashful antics and you pushing him away before things get too far, but he thought of it as simply respecting that you have boundaries no matter the reason. He just never thought it was because you were… untouched.

Jungkook doesn’t do virgins as much as oral. It’s laughable to find out he’s been played along by a phony virgin the whole time.

“Were you trying to hide it from me?” He tsks, tilting his head down at you. “Cute.”

Your lips are shut together, as you don’t know how to answer, because, yes, you have been hiding your virginity from him. It’s not wrong… but maybe it isn’t so right to have him obliviously deflower you.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it though, instead waiting on you to speak. So you don’t want to make a big deal out of it either, trying to brush it off.

“A-Are you still gonna…?”

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you,” Jungkook says as he leans in. Your chest hitches when his palm rests on your thigh.

“I’d rip you open, princess…” He mumbles softly, round nose nudging with yours. “You’d probably bleed all over my cock, fuck…”

Weirdly, you were not put off by that. He could tell by how your eyes practically sparkled that you were into it… His jeans feel tighter.

“Unless you want me to?”

You swallow. Unable to say it, but begging to be split in half in your head.

“Such a freak,” Jungkook murmurs. He’s heard quiet girls were the freakiest, but, damn, you were taking the cake.

The room grows quiet, and Jungkook moves as if he’s about to free you from his grasp, leave you high and dry like you’d done to him plenty before, but you’ve gotten too close to spend another night fantasizing about what he’d do to you if given the chance.

You grip his bulging forearm. “C-Can you kiss me?”

Making out has got to be so lackluster to him now, but he doesn’t hesitate to do as you ask. Fitting his mouth to yours is like second nature, the sweet oil of your gloss something he’d never say no to and how your bottom lip pricks between his teeth because he can’t help but to bite.

You mewl right into his lungs, hands roaming up tattooed skin to cradle his neck. His erection bumps against your thigh as he shifts to kiss down your throat again, and you realize that this isn’t actually going to stop when Jungkook starts sucking the tops of your breasts. When his lips meet your belly button, wavering over the sliver of skin between your skirt and cropped shirt.

Jungkook has been waiting as long as you to fuck each other. Is he really going to let your virginity be a deal breaker?

You smell like strawberries again tonight, followed by a hint of cocoa and marshmallow that has Jungkook wanting to stick his nose to every inch of your body and just breathe. You smell so fucking edible to the point that he wants his tongue running all over your melanated skin, too. He doesn’t notice that he’s kissing down your inner thigh until you gasp.

“What are you doing?” You ask nervously, blinking down at him.

He’s quiet for the moment he takes to stare up your skirt, at how your pretty, pink panties is nothing but a string of ruined fabric covering your swollen pussy now. You drip right through the lace and onto his fingers when he rubs you.

“Really wanna taste you,” Jungkook says, barely loud enough for you to hear over the thumping in your chest.

Your throat is too dry to say anything when his eyes flick to yours. He grips your knee to push your legs further apart, getting on his to sit up and lean over you again.

You don’t expect his hand to fall to your neck, thumb brushing your lips as his other palm squeezes your breast. You grab his wrist when he applies some pressure, thinking he’s going to choke you to death, but he just smirks at your doe-eyed expression.

“Princess… I trust that you’ll keep this pretty mouth shut.”

Oh. Right. He didn’t go down on his hookups. Or maybe he tells other girls this same thing, to keep hush about it.

At least all of your efforts wouldn’t be wasted. So you nod with his thumb on your tongue. “O-Okay.”

Jungkook hums at your compliance before reaching for your skirt and telling you to “lift up”. You do as he says and allow him to begin undressing you, your body shivering in anxiety when he throws your skirt on the floor and grips the band of your underwear next. You inhale a deep breath and lift up again, Jungkook’s eyes glazing over at the thick strings of wetness that have pooled in your panties as he drags them down your legs.

The fuckboy isn’t a stranger to getting his partners excited. He knows he has a face that can get anyone soaked. But this? He wouldn’t last for shit.

Jungkook likes it super wet and super tight. From all the women he’s fucked, not every girl feels the same. Virgins have been a big no-no in his sex life, but now he’s rethinking everything he’s ever stood for at a mere glimpse of how wet you are and how your hole looks like it can’t even take his fingers.

He’s about to put his mouth on you for fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he’s avoided your kind.

And you, in particular, are extremely dangerous. Playing as if you’ve had experience the whole time this has been going on, plotting this whole night out from suggesting meeting up at the party and coming back to your dorm. It doesn’t take much to notice that you’re completely hairless and smooth everywhere, too. Skin glowing like you took all morning prepping for a proper dick appointment.

Jungkook isn’t complaining. It’s hot that you dolled yourself all up for him in hopes of getting your v-card taken. Wanted to look like the princess he calls you when he takes you. Which you do.

Fuck, you look like the prettiest pillow princess ever as Jungkook lays on his stomach and yanks your hips closer to his face. You shyly glance up at your fairy lights, becoming embarrassed when he spreads your thighs wider and you can feel your pussy lay out for him. You don’t think you can muster eye contact during this, but you notice Jungkook’s eyes taking in your face and your princess parts without a care in the world.

There’s browns and flushed, dark pink hues that has him biting at his lip piercing in sweltering anticipation, and he’s so damn eager to put his mouth there that he doesn’t think twice about what he’s doing and goes with his instinct to lick. You squirm in response, catching a squeal in your throat at the foreign sensation. Jungkook, on the other hand, is already following up with another lick between your folds and then another…

You taste so sugary, and the way your juices are sticking to his tongue in webs makes him wish he’d eaten you out sooner. His blunt nails dig deeper into your thighs as he pushes his face closer so that his nose bumps with your clit. You begin whimpering, and it’s the perfect motivation to get you further.

Your cunt feels uncomfortably slick, but the tingling and tightening in your core that Jungkook is gracing onto you feels too good. You doubt that he’s never done this before; He’s eating you like it’s his craft. All while looking like—the devil.

His face is perfect for pussy eating, hell, face riding even. There’s no way no one else hasn’t witnessed his cheeks flushing, his furrowed eyebrows and rough tongue as if he’s angry as hell… The fluffy mess upon his head tickling your thighs.

You can’t bring yourself to touch it. You can’t believe someone’s pleasuring you and enjoying it. To keep yourself sane, you bury your face into your pillows and promise to not look down. Your moans are already as humiliating as you thought they would be, you can’t imagine your facial expressions.

But Jungkook finds your noises sweetly airy and sensual, desperate, but sexy. Your shaking legs and how you’re gripping the sheets, too, indicates that he’s treating you right. Gliding his tongue at a rhythmic pace, changing it up for a few seconds to nibble and swirl here and there. He doesn’t think he’s doing it correctly although you’re clenching like crazy.

Licking on pussy he hasn’t been in is so out of his character, but “you taste so fucking good” is all that passes through his swollen lips when he pulls away to catch his breath. You’re adorably hiding behind a Hello Kitty plushie, equally out of breath but able to hum at Jungkook’s compliment.

He doesn’t mind your shyness, which he’d expect from a virgin in the first place, but now he wants to see you lose it. Lose all your composure, rut against his face to get off. Cum. You’ve probably never had an orgasm before.

He proves himself right when he touches your slit with his fingers. You jump as if it’s foreign, too, and your cunt slicks up even more when he brushes your entrance. Jungkook’s rubbed you over your underwear a couple of times before, more so to tease, but it’s clear you haven’t had your own fingers down here to do real work.

So he wraps his lips around your puffy clit, sucking as he sticks his middle finger in your pussy to give you more pleasure… but then realizing he can’t go far or even curl his fingers how he wants because you tense up and—

“You still have a fucking hymen?”

Jungkook was partially kidding about popping your strawberry. He thought that was a traditional myth, or that nowadays many virgin women didn’t always have hymens for natural reasons. He figured you would just be a tight fit. Not that he’d have to actually break you in… To his luck, you keep surprising him.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” you mumble, pulling the Hello Kitty plushie down far enough for him to see your eyes. “I told you I was a…”

“Yeah, as in you haven’t had sex before,” Jungkook responds, tone nearing annoyed as he retracts his finger, careful to not tear you. “Not as in you’re some type of pure virgin bullshit.”

You sit up as he moves from in between your legs, your ears burning at how his lips are glistening from your mess. You hug your knees to your chest and use the plushie to cover yourself as he gets up from the bed.

There’s no way he’s leaving you.

“Jungkook—“

But he’s already made it out the door of your dorm, slamming it shut.

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Not that he contacted you much before, but Jungkook doesn’t message you for the next week. Not even to get high with him or go to the lake.

It’s a different type of silence between you both with knowing what happened, and you kind of expected it to go down like this after he got a piece of you anyways, to completely ignore you after getting what he could. It sucks that you didn’t get fucked how you imagined, or got to experience a first orgasm, though another experience to jot down in your diary was still a win.

It’s strangely made you confident that you’ve been half naked in front of another man, especially a seasoned fuckboy like Jungkook. If you can have him on your bed like that, then imagine how down bad you’d have your other option—Brandon.

Jungkook’s easy, but you know Brandon’s been trying to hit at you for a while. You could get him to fold with the snap of your fingers. He’s already so flirty and preoccupied with you as the umpteenth party of the semester goes on, him sticking to your side like a lovesick puppy and paying for your fruity cocktails with his daddy’s money.

You can’t be too stuck up on Jungkook when plenty of men have a dick, and, after all, your v-card can’t be much harder to get rid of. You wouldn’t give up a good time with Brandon.

He’s a popular senior with brown skin, dark hair, a bright smile, and gorgeous, hazel eyes. Very cute and lean since he plays varsity soccer. He’s not in a lot of mess with girls, but everyone knows he gets heavy play outside of the field.

Plus, Brandon is the son of some wealthy businessman. He doesn’t need to do much to pull any thirsty bitch, but you’ve been making him work for it. Other girls want to date and marry into his rich family; You just want his dick and maybe that roll of money he keeps unbundling for you.

Brandon can’t possibly suspect you’re a virgin with how you’re feeding into his teasing and teasing right back, knocking out drink after drink and giggling at everything he says. This is the longest you’ve engaged with him outside of class, so you hope you’re giving off that you’re interested in sleeping together, despite the shy and introverted persona you have.

The soccer player seems to understand your reciprocated desire though as he gets touchier and leans in to whisper how good you smell and how sexy you look—because, when has a mini skirt ever failed? But you catch the big, brown eyes of someone across the floor.

Staring.

Jungkook.

You look away first, as he has no shame in letting you know he’s watching you. While sitting between two girls that were practically on top of him.

Urgh. The nerve to glare at you when he’s been walking past you on campus without a word all week… Asshole.

“Did you want another drink?” Brandon asks, rubbing your arm at the sudden change in your facial expression. You like that he doesn’t meddle in who you might’ve seen and offers more poison.

“Yeah, sure,” you tell him. The alcohol has loosened you up quite a lot, but you can still remember the shit that has you pressing yourself to Brandon, so you down another, thankful that your mind gets fuzzier.

It only lasts for a few minutes before you’re reminiscing the other night, Jungkook’s hand on your throat, his tongue in your pussy, and what could’ve been if you weren’t a virgin. You want to say ‘fuck him’ out loud and forget about it and him in general. But you glance back over to where you’d noticed him to see he’s leaving the party. Alone.

Making quick eye contact with you through the crowd. It speaks for itself.

Fine… Let’s talk then.

You step back from the kitchen counter as you set your cup down. “I-I gotta go.”

Brandon chuckles, although he’s not happy about losing his piece of ass. “Want me to drive you back?”

“I drove,” you say, wielding your Sanrio charm decorated keys from your wrist wallet. “But thanks.”

“You can’t drink and drive,” he claims, and within the second of him pulling you back into him, he snatches your keychain. “I can get you back to your dorm, ________.”

“I can drive fine, not drunk,” you mumble. He’s right, you shouldn’t drink and drive, but you’re going to see someone who you trust more to be inebriated around. “Can you give me my keys?”

Brandon pockets them and shrugs. His nonchalant attitude shift is different than how he approaches you in class. “How about we go upstairs to chill before you go? You’re not sober enough to drive.”

“Then I can walk,” you exclaim. He’s pissing you off. Sure, you had a good amount of alcohol, but you’re highly functional, speaking without slurring. Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. You can’t tell if he’s trying to protect you or be a jackass about you leaving so soon.

“I’ll give you your keys if you give me something in return.”

Okay. Jackass about you leaving so soon it is.

“What?”

“A goodbye kiss,” Brandon frowns, thick eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve been such a tease to me all night, thinking I’ve finally gotten through to you. I didn’t think you’d still be such a prissy good girl around me outside of Chemistry.”

You suck in a nervous breath, understanding how this might look to him. But still… doesn’t mean you owe him anything, and it sounds like he’s alluding to it. You wanted to have sex at first, but you can change your mind whenever you want, right? He’s acting as if you’ve ruined everything by not putting out.

“Or not want me to take you back,” he continues, wrapping his bulging arm around your shoulder as he takes a swig of alcohol. “You’re not as drunk, are you? Like you said? Let me drive you to your dorm.”

You can’t fathom the words coming out of his mouth so casually, and, suddenly, his sharp cologne is stinging your nose, his varsity jacket is heavy on your neck. He’s turned you all the way off, and you’d be pushing it to let him drop you at campus. What would he ask for then?

You wrench his arm away from you. Fuck the keys. A goodbye kiss because he spent his money on you? And can’t handle the idea of sexing up anyone else in here but you? What makes him so entitled.

Brandon calls out to you as you leave your keys behind and push through the crowd, wanting to explode on yourself for what happened and being blinded by something as unserious as your desire to lose your virginity. Brandon was sweet until he wasn’t, but you don’t know if you’re looking at green flags or red ones.

Maybe he was joking about the kiss and playing around? What if he was worried about your safety for real? Ack… Your mind didn’t feel right, but you know how you love to overthink.

Once outside the frat, a sigh visibly escapes your lips and fades into the cool, night air. There’s as many people here as in, but everyone is lit off their alcohol or whatever drugs being passed around to notice your frazzled state as you step down the porch stairs. You figure to head to your car and wait until Brandon eventually gives you your keys back, scared your little baby may get stolen. However, low and behold, parked right next to it in the makeshift parking lot of grass other college students have dumped their cars across, is none other than an iconic blue and white mustang.

Actually… you don’t mind waiting for your keys. Jungkook leaning there against the hood of his old school gem smoking is going to keep you occupied for a while.

You come to a stop in front of him, anxious, but he’d been the reason for you to leave in the first place. It’s not like you’re unwanted in his presence.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first, glances at you up and down in your revealing outfit while you check him out the same. He’s in a fitted black top and baggy, dark wash jeans held up by a belt that accentuates his lean yet muscular figure. A chain decorates his neck, and his fingers are shiny with steel rings as he removes the blunt from his mouth to blow the smoke.

He’s so menacing looking like the bad boy he is, curled hair styled to perfection. You’re too entranced by his handsomeness to notice his hand pulling you closer by the back of your thigh to pass you the blunt to hit.

You puff it for a second and exhale the weed in a sigh. It’s something about you being all dolled up in cute makeup, pink clothing, and your leg warmers that makes Jungkook’s lip quirk up at you engaging in illegal behavior with him. He takes another hit when you give it back, your strawberry flavored gloss sweet on his tongue as he lets the smoke fade into the darkness above before finally speaking.

“What’s with you talking to that guy?” He confronts. “Acting like I don’t give you enough attention…”

He wasn’t about to beat around the bush. No wonder he was death staring you.

“Is that what you brought me out here for?” You ask. “I didn’t say anything when those girls were all over you.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, sharp jaw tightening. “I have girls all over me all the time, princess. Doesn’t mean I want their attention.”

As if on cue, he looks over at a group of girls clearly giggling and gushing about him a few cars over, despite you standing right there. You scowl as you turn back to him to see a smirk on his face.

“Or need it.”

“I didn’t need his attention either,” you feign innocence. What the hell is he trying to get at? So what if you were on Brandon.

“Didn’t look like it.” He sizes you up before catching your eyes again. “You dress like an attention whore, had your tits pressed against his arm the whole time… You wanted him to fuck you, yeah?”

“If I did?”

A beat of silence before Jungkook chuckles, yanking you between his legs by your hips this time to get nose to nose. “He can’t give you what you want.”

“Y-You don’t know what I want.”

“You want me.” He smiles with bunny teeth, and, god, he’s so fucking fine even though he’s so full of himself. “Right, princess? Don’t give me that pout.”

You step back and immediately fix your face before he reaches up to fix it for you. “Is this all you had to talk about?”

It’s his turn to pout at your pissy mood, but it doesn’t stop him from pushing on.

“I didn’t bring you over here for nothing, princess,” he says.

“Then what do you want?”

“To taste your pussy. I thought that part was obvious…” Jungkook nods back at his car, and your breath runs rapid.

No way he had enough room in there to have his head between your legs. Comfortably anyways.

He’s gotta be fucking with you? Eating you out, walking out on you, and ignoring you for a week to then come finish the job? What a joke.

“You’re insane.”

“A little.” Before you can walk too far away, he grips you by the wrist to pull you back. “Wanna hot box?”

“That’s an even dumber idea, Jungkook…”

“Not like it’s stopped you before.”

What’s his fucking issue? He’s acting like the night in your dorm room never happened and that he didn’t ghost you for days after finding out you were a virgin. As if this whole friendship or situationship wasn’t as unhinged already. Now he wants to ‘chill’ after seeing you cozied up with Brandon. Typical fuckboy!

Your choices in men weren’t great, but Jungkook has this special charm to him that bends you to his each and every will. If he wanted to smoke you high, your body was going to find a way to make it possible. Or his raven eyes are just that majestic to have you whispering “Fine…” in agreement, without weighing the consequences.

Next thing you know, Jungkook’s propped the passenger seat forward to let you and him slide into the back of his old school mustang. The back seat isn’t ideal for his height or yours since the roof is lower and a bit cramped, however, you don’t mind having to lie back and being pressed next to Jungkook’s warm body. Hot boxing with him was a cheat on therapy.

The tinted windows fog up ten-fold due to the chilly weather outside and the fumes filling up the vehicle. There’s music playing from the radio that hugs your skin just right, and you loll onto Jungkook’s shoulder as you allow yourself to buzz after the blunt’s gone. How he knew you could use this moment was beyond your comprehension, but motherfuckers like him always knew when to show up and keep bruising their marks before they disappear.

It’s much easier, in his case, when the butterfly on your thigh has yet to fade. He draws circles on the stick-n-poke he’d done on your skin months ago, thumb as soft as a feather. Fingertips lightly grazing the expanse of your smooth, brown legs over and over.

You suspect he’ll kiss you, make out, go as far as sucking on your throat to feed the oral fixation he gets when he’s faded and to fuel the stickiness you get in your panties at his touch. You can smell his cologne on his neck mixing in with the loud as he leans in closer.

“It pisses me off,” he starts, and the huskiness in his voice has your hairs standing on edge. “When you play in my face, princess.”

Your hooded eyes can barely push up a confused eyebrow. “What… What did I do?”

“Make stupid decisions,” Jungkook tsks. “Your little boyfriend doesn’t know?”

He was still stuck on that shit with Brandon? Men were so damn dramatic, hell.

“He’s not my boyfriend, neither are you,” you explain, annoyed. “You didn’t want to take it... What does it matter if I wanted him to?”

“Are you that stupid to have someone else’s tongue up your cunt?” Jungkook utters, finger coming up to coil a curl around it before making eye contact. “I licked it, so it’s mine.”

You giggle. The weed makes your laugh last longer, but it’s funny, genuinely. Staking claim over your coochie because he ate you out? Mr. I Don’t Eat Pussy pressing you about it is crazy. He has to be high out of his mind, but you entertain him back, feeling a little too bold from the kush and alcohol.

“Yours? When you didn’t even do much before running out?”

The car goes quiet except for the audio lowly bumping the speakers. You can’t believe you said what you’d been so pissed about. He surprisingly doesn’t get mad at you coming for his ego, instead, he laughs it off, tonguing his cheek hotly, dangerously.

“Did you wanna be a brat tonight?” Jungkook responds, hand tightening on your thigh. You didn’t know exactly what he meant by it, but you were not up to find out.

You bite your tongue and shake your head, scared out of your mind at what you’re positive crossed both of your consciences in that moment. Jungkook’s veiny hands adorned in those silver rings leaving your ass welted. You, a whimpering mess and regretful about opening your mouth.

“You sure?”

You nod. “Y-Yes...”

Jungkook finds you fucking adorable as you trail off and blank out. He isn’t used to girls thinking around him, so he can’t help but to stare, move a little closer to see if he can read your mind. Your pupils are big, filled with anticipation. Expecting more.

“Is that why you haven’t texted me?” He breaks the silence. “Cause I didn’t get you off?”

From your perspective, you hadn’t thought of it in that way. He didn’t text you, but neither did you text him. The lack of communication is on both parts, but he always hit you up first to hang. He can’t all of a sudden act as if it’s the other way around, like you’re the one dragging him along for the fun of it.

“It’s because you ran out on me in the middle of… doing it, what am I supposed to think?” You ask.

“Princess,” Jungkook makes a noise and throws his head back against the seat. “You’re so hard to understand.”

“W-What do you mean?” What was so hard to understand about wanting to get fucked into your mattress?

“I mean,” he begins, red eyes flicking to yours past his nose. “Have you even touched yourself? Came?”

You blink. “Came…?”

“Orgasmed,” the fuckboy smirks, cheek dimple popping. “When it feels too good and you just let go.”

The flesh of your cheeks warm as you imagine it, the stuff you’ve seen in porn and those times you’ve tried to get yourself there but embarrassingly failed.

“No… but I touch—I touch myself sometimes. I just… rub it. It hurts if…” You avoid his gaze, unable to say it aloud.

“Cause you don’t know what you’re doing,” Jungkook concludes. “You’re jumping ten steps ahead when you haven’t seen a real cock in person, princess. You don’t know what you like.”

Your dolly lashes blink up at him in guilt yet admiration. You have a serious lack of experience with sex, heavy petting being the furthest you’ve gone with Jungkook, and you come to realize that it isn’t smart or safe to be so willing to give up your virginity. You’re clueless enough for the university’s biggest fuckboy and the police’s worst nightmare to hang morality over your head. Jeon Jungkook. Trying to communicate about your nonexistent sex life instead of getting a quick nut.

Oh, god, why does he care? It makes you want to fuck him more instead.

“I get what you’re saying,” you tell him. “But… does it matter? To you, that I’m…”

“Yeah.” He’s back to playing in your hair again, body facing yours, head tilted to the side as he hums. He’s high, but still in control of his actions and words and… agh.

“W-Why?” You ask.

You feel like any other guy would be dying to be a girl’s first time. Jungkook’s restraint and adulation in this situation is so sexy, despite how disposable you’ve heard he treats women.

“Well, I just wanna fuck you,” he honestly admits. “You might not want that from me.”

Your chest pounds faster as he traces the curve of your neck, thumb grazing the tops of your chest and cleavage. No shocker there that he only desires sex from you, can’t keep his eyes off your body. But that’s what you want, too. A good time.

You boldly grab his hand to place it on your chest, and he immediately squeezes. Jungkook’s surprised by your action, and the peek of the lace bra underneath your top isn’t allowing him to think rationally.

You whisper, “What else do you think I want?”

His eyes roam over your body again, before he blinks back into reality and says, “A boyfriend. Commitment.”

“Because I’m a virgin…?”

He nods and reaches up to touch your face.

“Yes. I think girls like you get attached, princess.” He thumbs your bottom lip. “And crazy.”

He has to be wrong. You don’t think you will turn out like that. Not over sex. You care little about your virginity, and you aren’t the type to take it as extremely and give it to someone you vow your life to in marriage. You could have sex and move on like everyone else.

“I was your first, wasn’t I? When you tasted me..?Why can’t you be mine?”

The fuckboy finds your logic flawed. Oral versus intercourse wasn’t anywhere near the same. “That’s not how it works, princess.”

“Then show me how it works, Jungkook.”

Your determination has Jungkook’s dick hardening in his jeans. His sweet and soft princess is so set on what she wants that he doesn’t want to tell you no. Of course, finding out you were a virgin didn’t make you any less desirable to him. If anything, he wants to break you in half and take you for himself.

But, it’s not right. He’s an asshole and commits crimes here and there, but he’s not a bad person. And he doesn’t want to hurt you, whether that’s emotionally or physically. Virgins are stop signs to him for a number of reasons, some shit he’s dealt with as one himself. He just—doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He’s selfish and unavailable in too many ways he needs to be. You don’t deserve that.

It’s a good thing he’s as good as he is when it comes to women. He can give you what you want, all while still not giving you what you really want.

“Open your legs,” he demands, calmly and assertively. As expected, you freeze.

“B-But—“ you stutter, looking around at the tinted windows of the car. Jungkook knows his windows are pitch black, but he likes how nervous you get about possibly being seen exposed.

“Your legs, pretty,” he repeats, tugging on your thighs. “Spread them.”

You let out a breath and lessen your resistance as Jungkook maneuvers your legs over his thighs and coerces you to spread one, enough to let his palm flatten between them, a thumb pressing up against your cute underwear. The crotch is unsurprisingly damp.

“You’re so fucking easy, princess,” he taunts. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

“I-I am.” You don’t know if you’re stuttering because of him or how aroused you’re getting. Jungkook and weed is a terrible combination.

Jungkook greedily pushes his fingers down your panties when your mouths connect to feel all of it skin on skin, clit sticky and fuck, yeah, you are a virgin based on how tiny your hole still feels as he circles it.

It’s insane how internally possessive he grows to be reminded. Sex and pleasuring another leaves him satiated but not wanting more than just a quick fuck. With you, he can’t hit it and done. He can’t push your face into the backseat and cram his cock into you. He has to take his time, wants to give it to you right in every way he can.

Virgins aren’t his thing. Eating pussy isn’t his thing. Not when he’s only done it once… He’s just… experimenting. All while developing new, sick fantasies you’ve ingrained into him.

“Can I touch you?” He breaks the kiss to ask, like his digits aren’t already slipping through your folds.

Your ears burn at the faded yet needy look in his pupils. You think he wants to go further, and here you are again, ready to lose your virginity to the fuckiest fuckboy, despite the attitude he’s given the past week. What was wrong with you? And him?

Who knows… You gladly nod your head.

You slightly lift your hips to let him pull your pink panties down your knees, over your leg warmers and platform shoes. They’re discarded somewhere in the car, and you shriek as Jungkook repositions so that you’re more on top of him and your lower half is over his, pelvis angled to better expose your core. You thought P-in-V was next, but you’re not realizing how serious this is until he moves his fingers back down there. The pretty ones with the rings that look like they’ll break you.

“Y-You can’t, I’m…” Too tight. You were too embarrassed to finish your own sentence. However, Jungkook is already ahead. Stupid you to think you could take cock when one finger is about to make you a wreck.

“They’ll fit, princess,” he coos. “Relax.”

You try to do just that by letting your body mold into his, taking slow breaths, vibing with the music you can hear, trying not to be too in your head about what you’re doing. It’s weird at first when he brushes your clit again and starts rubbing it, but the sensation quickly brightens into pleasure. The little nub grows hotter with every circle, and your pussy aches for more.

You whimper a cuss word at your legs jerking and grip his tatted hand when a figure walks by the tinted windows. The party must’ve began dying down and people were leaving. And you’re here in the backseat of Jungkook’s mustang getting your clit beat, wishing he’d stuff you, because you can feel how badly the inside of your walls want to be full.

“Think you can take it?” He rasps in your ear. You nod and moan as he picks up the speed on your hood, using his other hand to fondle your breasts over your shirt.

Like any other woman, you wet yourself easily at Jungkook’s ministrations. By your heavy breathing and squirming, he can tell you’re dying to get a taste, that you want to cum on his fingers so hard. He kisses you more, rubbing and rubbing along your slit until your pussy is drenched on his fingers, and then does he take the opportunity to prod at your hole.

Your body freezes once you ingulf an influx of air, the foreign feeling uncomfortable yet tempting. You want it, despite the sting you have to endure before your core naturally submits and accommodates his ringed finger.

Your breath falters out of your chest as he pushes, and you dig your nails into Jungkook’s wrist. You feel hot, everything’s so hot, and your walls are clenching nonstop.

“I know, I know,” he comforts you, pierced lips whispering against the side of your neck when you throw your head back in ecstasy. “Let me in, pretty.”

“Ngh, fuck, oh my god,” you moan out, wrapping your arm around his neck to hold onto something. No way it feels this good, and you’ve been missing out all this time.

It’s Jungkook’s middle finger you’re clenching around and babbling over, close to ripping the curly tresses out of his scalp with how hard you’re tugging. A delicious sheen of sweat coats your neck as Jungkook drags his digit in and out slowly for you to experience the motion, and you look so sexy spread out on his lap taking it.

Another shadow flits by the car window, and your pussy immediately tightens in excitement. You start trying to rock against his hand to get him deeper, anxiously watching for outside but still enjoying yourself.

“Jungkook, f-faster,” you beg, reaching for his hand and pressing it more against you if possible.

He listens, adding more movement in his wrist, allowing his finger to slip further and quicker into your silky warmth. He’s as breathless as you when you whine out at the feel of his thumb stimulating your clit.

“Pretty little pussy suckin me in so good,” He mumbles against your skin, strawberry scent blessing his nostrils. “Fuck.”

Now he’s imagining you wrapped around his dick sucking him in just like this. Stretching you out until you’re full of him and crying about how it feels too much. So he uses his other hand to spread your pussy, ring finger sliding in next, obsessed with getting your sex to open up for him. He barely has to try. You’re so slick and relaxed and willing that you take the two fingers with little struggle.

“You’re so tight, princess,” Jungkook moans, barely able to move his fingers despite getting them inside. He figures he’ll hurt you if he tries to force further because of your hymen, so he’ll deal with what he can.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize in embarrassment, a bit uncomfortable too now with another finger since it feels bigger.

He guides you back into bliss, though, not allowing you to slip into that insecurity, and bends his head down to aim and spit on your folds like a professional. “Breathe for me, okay?”

“M-Mmkay,” you sob, because he was mental for having the nerve to spit like a freak and then talk to you as if he really cares about your pleasure and well-being.

He doesn’t press you to go any further, accepting that this may be as far as he can get you. Which is fine. You’re a virgin after all. He doesn’t expect you to hop on his dick, hot and ready. He’s much bigger than the two fingers your pussy can’t handle, not to brag. But it’s okay. Vagina was still vagina, and he knows exactly how to satisfyingly end this.

“Don’t think about it,” He whispers, his voice soothing you to unwind and let him take back control.

“Think… Think about what?” You breathe, voice hitching when Jungkook goes to rub your clit, keeping the other two fingers lodged in your tight wetness. He doesn’t answer you and instead slides his fingers deeper. Not thrusting. All of the motion is focusing on your swollen little button.

You don’t expect the buildup to hit you fast and so quickly. Lashes wet with tears, lip bitten raw from trying to keep noises down. But it rips through you without any remorse that you cry out loud.

Jungkook steadily abuses the nerves to get you there, holding you down to his body so you can’t run away from the climax. There’s fingernail indents reddening on his wrist when he slows down, and you gasp as you continue to cling onto him throughout your orgasm.

That was… crazier than you expected. You feel like you’re floating for a few seconds and have lost your mind. It’s as pleasant as people say.

“Good, princess.”

Jungkook is delighted that he pulled it off. Gave you your first orgasm awakening. He could’ve done better and so much more, but with how your chest is heaving, he would have made your heart explode. He’s happy with this for now.

“Aak!” You suddenly scream when you look down, but cover your mouth to not alert outsiders.

Jungkook leans up at attention. “What?”

“S-Sorry. I felt something… Inside. And it scared me,” you mumble. “Can you…?”

Your fingers gently touch the two still lodged inside your entrance. Oh.

“Yeah.” He slowly pulls them out, careful to not hurt you. And then does the final result of Jungkook’s finger fucking show.

A cloudy stream of cum flows from your pussy and forms a small pool on the crotch of Jungkook’s dark jeans near the zipper. He takes it upon himself to spread your lips for the full view, tiny cunt clenching around air.

“Of course you’re a creamer,” he notes, eyes fixated on the juices on his hand.

You pout. “Is that a bad thing…?”

“No.”

Although he enjoys when women squirt, it fits your entire persona and being that you cream. Some cheesy, aesthetic shit like chocolate covered strawberries and whipped cream is very fitting to the way you smell, dress, and look… Even during sex.

Shamelessly, he brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them.

You taste sweeter than last week. Or maybe it’s been too long to remember the exact way you did, so his tastebuds have forgotten. Either way, he wants your cunt in his mouth. Now.

The tension between you and him grows and grows as he leans in like he’s going to kiss you, and with those pillows wet from your essence, you’re begging him to ‘kiss me more, kiss me more’ in your head.

You can smell your scent on his breath when your lips brush, but your excitement is cut short.

Ruined by a beating on the window glass.

“JEON!”

You freeze.

Jungkook lets out an airy chuckle and hangs his head.

“Fucking hell…”

“JEON!” It sounds like a girl. And a mad one, since she bangs some more, her fist shadowing on the fogged window. “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, YOU ASS!”

You frown. “Who is that?”

“Don’t say anything to her,” Jungkook responds, and slides you off his lap. “I don’t know where I threw your panties.”

The banging and yelling continues, and the doorknob is also yanked on. Your blood pressure rushes into defense mode when a nasty thought invades your brain, but you can’t ponder on it for too long. You’re clearly being rushed out of the car, and you’re half naked.

Jungkook looks down on the carpet for your missing undergarment, but something pink catches the corner of your eye. It’s your underwear. Up there on the dashboard.

More banging.

You don’t think you’ll get it on in time, this was already taking too long.

“Forget it,” you tell him, pulling your skirt down. “You want me to stay in the car, or what?”

“No, fuck,” he groans. He easily pushes the passenger seat forward and unlocks the door so he can get out.

The door flings open. All hell breaks loose.

“Oh? Now you open the door?!” The girl yells.

“Giselle,” you hear Jungkook say, and what sounds like scuffling. “Stop.”

“You got a bitch in there?!”

A bitch…?

Oh, god. You roll your eyes, nervousness catching in your throat. Was this his girlfriend? A hookup? You’d forgotten he was a fucking fuckboy. You should’ve expected this if you were going to be around him in public and in general.

What were you thinking? How much of a piece of ass do you look getting fingered in the back of his car at a party. And then to have some chick yelling at him about his endeavors.

You didn’t have time for this. You got your nut. It’s time to make like a man and bounce.

So you slip out of the car after obtaining your wrist wallet from the pocket behind the seat, expecting to make a quick getaway. However, Jungkook was guarding the passenger door and there’s a girl standing in front of him, fuming.

She’s a popular senior that you’ve passed by a few times on campus, two years above you and Jungkook. You never cared to know her real name, but you did know that she was too old to be red in the face over someone like your acquaintance. Unless… this was her man. But Jeon Jungkook didn’t date.

“Is this who’s getting your dick wet now?” She, Gigi, or Giselle, looks you up and down, flips her dark hair, and crosses her arms. “What a downgrade.”

You blink, honestly not fast enough and too confused to respond because you didn’t expect the insult.

“Cut it,” Jungkook firmly states.

“How about you cut your penis off and stop fucking everything you see?” Giselle steps in his face, and it kinda pisses you off that he lets her and just turns his head to tongue his cheek in annoyance. “What’s on your lips? Gloss? And that cum stain and your boner tells me all I need to know, did I interrupt?”

Ew. What a fucking bitch.

Your face scrunches up at her attitude and the way she’s talking to him. It’s degrading and weird. This can’t be his partner. Jungkook is never one to not voice what he has to say or be talked to any kind of way, so you assume her and him have history. But whatever history it is… It damn sure wasn’t healthy.

“J-Jungkook..?” You mumble, grabbing on his arm that’s blocking you to get him to move. Giselle’s eyes snap towards you, and Jungkook presses you back as she steps closer.

“And whoever you are,” Gigi points a French tipped fingernail at you. “Don’t let me catch you again, bitch.”

Was that a threat?

You know that she expects you to be quiet, too, to not retaliate. Probably because you are docile and sweet looking. And she thinks she can run anyone simply because she’s gorgeous and wears nice clothes and has a reputation to uphold. But you don’t do disrespect. Not over dick and balls.

So you step up to that fucking fingernail in your face, holding her eyes.

“Or what?”

She’s stunned. Eyes freezing at the fact that you opened your mouth to talk back.

You were shy, okay. But you weren’t a spineless bitch. Putting your pussy in Jungkook’s face was number one proof.

It’s quiet between the three of you for a second, just the sound of the breeze and university students laughing and talking as they exit the party. Inside Giselle’s head is loud with anger though.

“Princess, in the car.” Jungkook breaks the silence, coercing you to sit down in the passenger seat.

“You’re gonna let her talk to me like that? Really?” Giselle questions behind him. “Jeon. I’m talking to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hear him say before he shuts the door. You listen in on their conversation as you let out a breath. “We’re not together. She has nothing to do with what we have going on anyways.”

“Fuck you, Jeon! Seriously!” You hear Giselle yell and watch as Jungkook’s figure crosses in front of the mustang. “You should know that I don’t take disrespect lightly. Not with any of the whores you talk to! Everyone knows that!”

Jungkook simply reacts by shaking his head and opens the driver side door, getting in and revving the car up. He glances over at you. “I’ll take you back to the dorms, okay?”

You take a little while to respond as he pulls off of the grass and through other cars. You were too shocked about whatever that was, upset about how she talked to him and her disgusting first impression on you. Sure, Jungkook wasn’t a saint, but she damn sure wasn’t one either. She was awful, and to be a popular figure at the university… You were glad you kept to yourself.

In other thoughts, Giselle had to have been Jungkook’s ex. Maybe they were on a break, and she was being celibate while he still fucked around. It made the most sense for her to be mad over. Then, he said they weren’t dating, so maybe not.

Sigh. You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know.

“Uhm…” you quietly speak up as he nears your dorm building. “Brandon has my car keys.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know, I think he was just playing,” you answer. “Sorry… I should’ve said something before you zoomed out of there.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “Get inside. I’ll get your keys and car for you by morning.”

“Jungkook—“

“I’ll get them.”

You close your mouth at his sharp tone, eyes fixating on his tattooed hand gripping the wheel. You hope he will get them smoothly. Too much chaotic shit already happened, and you didn’t want to be at fault for anything else.

“T-Thanks… Be nice about it, please?”

He chuckles, and you light up a little at his mood lightening, despite that altercation a few minutes ago. “You can talk your shit, but I can’t talk mine?”

Please. You were not going to go head-to-head with Giselle over dick. Only if it came down to her hitting you first... However, Jungkook’s a fighter, whether he’s hit first or not, so Brandon should think twice about playing with him.

“Still… be nice. Thanks.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

You awkwardly open the door and get out, grabbing a hold of your wrist wallet. Before you can close it, Jungkook stops you.

“Forgetting something, princess.”

You bend down to see him holding your pink panties out to you.

“Jungkook!” You snatch them, balling them up in your hand and looking around to make sure no one saw. Like you both were doing a drug deal.

“I can keep them up here as a souvenir, if you want.”

“N-No, bye.” You embarrassingly shake your head and close the door, biting your lip as you turn and enter the building. Jungkook’s mustang doesn’t noisily speed off until you swipe your identification card and the door clicks behind you.

You palm you warm cheeks as you ascend up the stairs to your floor.

What a night…

.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺ ♥︎ ༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀

🍓⊹｡ෆ

Your residential assistant brings you your car keys in the morning, saying that they were left on the office desk without a word but your name. You thank her, going to look out your window to see your car parked across the lot in reverse.

How nice of him.

You wonder how Brandon acted when Jungkook approached him for them. Tsk. Probably tucked his tail and gave them up right away. It secretly annoys you that you couldn’t get them back yourself, but hey, sometimes guys won’t listen until another one makes them. Sad to say.

You jump back into bed after doing your morning routine and pull up your chat with Jungkook. You should thank him. For getting your car keys and bringing your car. Not… for fingering you and giving you your first orgasm. That’s weird. And you shouldn’t pry into his situation with Giselle. That would be weird to ask about, too, when you and him are just acquaintances having fun.

Okay. Let’s forget anything else happened. Be normal.

you: hi. thx for dropping my car off

Send.

Except, it doesn’t. The message is green, and you’ve seen Jungkook’s iPhone that he rarely loses sight of.

What?

No way.

You huff, pretty loudly. Chin plopping down on My Melody’s plush head.

You send another message, a period. To act like you forgot to put it at the end. It’s green. And you’re not getting the option to send it as a text message.

You call, too, the call not going past the first ring.

You’re… blocked?

“Wow…” you mumble, not knowing how to describe your confused emotions…

.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀

♥︎pixieknj 🎀⊹｡ෆ

feedback, asks, and requests are welcomed! read more here!

shushucherry ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though. 

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

---

[48/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡

shushucherry ‘hime holiday’ collection ♡︎