Ella: Finished - Tumblr Posts

OKAY, school has sucked lately, BUT I READ THIS AND 😩😩😩💜💜💜 my heart. one of my fav couples and UGH. they were so cute, yn was a bit of a bum sometimes but like it's fine, it's cool.

but this was so wholesome, and realistic and wow 😩🥺💜

love formula | jjk sm au

banner by: @dee-ehn​

🖇 synopsis:

// ‘there is a chemical formula for love. dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin. it can be easily manufactured in a lab, but overdosing on any of them can cause schizophrenia, extreme paranoia, and insanity. let that sink in.’ ]]

— you’re barreling into his life when he least expects it, stealing all his attention until the nights spent studying are replaced with rolling around the sheets. he’s hopelessly romantic and you’re in it for the fun, but no one told you it would ruin your life.

pairing: shyboy!jungkook x fuckgirl!reader

fic type: social media au

side ships: vmin… sope(?)

genre: smut!! college au, friends with benefits, f2l. angst…

warnings: yn is very cynical when it comes to love and jungkook is the exact opposite… so be prepared for the hurt feelings…

status: complete!!

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

parts:

playlist

prologue: cinematic greatness

character profiles: jeongguk and his buds

character profiles: yn and her wh0res

part one: complete stranger

part two: claiming handys

part three: sexual innuendos

part four: debit or credit

part five: biggest crush

part six: exactly as planned

part seven: great boyfriend

bonus: mirror selfie

part eight: skipping out

part nine: rule book

part ten: comfort zone (mini timejump)

part eleven: hooking up

part twelve: couple thing

part thirteen: half-ass theory

part fourteen: having fun (pt.1)

part fifteen: having fun (pt. 2)

part sixteen: having fun (the final part)

Q&A

part seventeen: teen angst

part eighteen: been weird

part nineteen: pull back

part twenty: emotionally constipated

part twenty-one: less guarded

part twenty-two: kinda girlfriend

part twenty-three: unnecessary drama

part twenty-four: only girl

part twenty-five: starting last

part twenty-six: relationship expert

part twenty-seven: soul searching

part twenty-eight: making changes (time jump)

part twenty-nine: booty calls

part thirty: the luckiest

bonus: valentine’s day

epilogue: seven years

epilogue: my boyfriend

end

this was so cute omg, looove these two!!

Study Buddy masterlist

‧✧̣̇‧ Pairing: YN x Taehyung

‧✧̣̇‧ Genre: college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, tiny itsy bitsy bit of angst, Taehyung doesn’t know he’s in love AU, idiot to lovers au.

‧✧̣̇‧ Warnings: swear words, Y/n simps too much for Taehyung, suggestive language in future chapters.

‧✧̣̇‧ Summary: A series of drabbles of your study buddy dates, after failing one of your classes, you begged your very smart and handsome classmate to be your study buddy. He’s also your crush but he doesn’t need to know that. Not yet at least. For now you cherish every moment you have with him.

Teaser 𑁍

Part 1 𑁍

Part 2 𑁍

Part 3 𑁍

Part 4 𑁍

Part 5 𑁍

Part 6 𑁍

Part 7 𑁍

Part 8 (S) 𑁍

Study buddy Q&A

cried. absolutely bawled.

this hurt, a lot. ngl, def threw me back to my high school days where I was pining for my ex best guy friend for like 6 years LMAO. so, I def felt y/n here. tae fr was exactly like my ex best friend too, so that hellllllla hurt me; however, the end 🥺 it sucked that y/n went through a lot for tae, truly, but I'm so happy with the ending. we love a grown ass woman who deserves so much more than what was being given 😤

Teardrops on My Guitar | KTH

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend, and while he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than one, but since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you, only question for how long?

🔞 (Minors DNI) | 💔 Angst | 💘 Fluff | 😈 Smut

Word Count: 20154 words (I’m so sorry)

Age: 18+

Pairings: Taehyung x Female Reader

Warnings: Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (lets lift each other up). 

Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is in a way letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then.

Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to the following lovies, @hobeemin @jeonjcngkook  @go1denjeon  @taeshobipop @rosiekook, thank you guys so much for hearing me yap about this fic endlessly for a whole two months and its finally done, it couldn’t have been possible without your constant love and support.  Authors Note 3: Thank you so much @jimilter​ Ash, my baby, my angel, you’ve really gone above and beyond reading such a long fic for me and being so kind and patient and loving with your time to help me read this. It was like opening a wound but with your kind words and tireless efforts to help me make this fic what it is, I couldn’t have asked for a more loving and encouraging beta reader, thank you for this my love. 

Banner Credits: @aglassofpinkchampagne thank you for this and everything you do 💕

© playmetheclassics 2021. All rights reserved.

Taglist: @namjooningelsewhere @jimilter @bonvoyagenoona​ @purgatorywriter @tangledsparkles @mochilatae @skyys-universe​@bringmetheksj @dopedreamfireparty @dntaewithluv​ @thehorizon19​ @gukkmoans​ @hearteuforjoonie​ @jeonjcngkook​ @evanssgi​ @jayhopely​

​

Keep reading

another smau masterpiece!!!! ty for writing, so so fun to have been on this crazy journey with these two!!! loved every moment of it.

epilogue: lucky shirt

— don’t judge a book by its cover. unless the book is a six foot tall, dimpled muscle pig who has no problem bragging about the notches on his belt… not to mention his new unhinged determination to add you to the list.

↞ masterlist

⇝ taglist: @agustdef @yoon2k @jaiuneamesolitaiire @amour-quinn @dee-ehn @gldnrecs @hopeworldjimin @preciouschimine @diminieshoe @silentlyimpractical @btsbangtanbois @agustneeds @redluvletmain @tae165 @joontopia @dionysusrage @hellotherehoneybee @certifiedcrazycatlady @morseszn @yoooonie @peachy-tata @lochness-butmakeitsexy​ @rikisnotforsale @v3nti @namjoonsillegaldimple @hobiismyhopeu​ @ggukkieland​ @telepathylftv​ @kxdrawhl​ @morndas​ @prdshobi​ @codeinebelle​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @jiminshibaby​ @lil-sracha​ @arya-di-angelo​ @todorokiskitten​ @ayyyocee​ @salty-for-suga​ @stepheboo​ @bloomtilweache​ @taefect94​ @jooniesbanoonies​ @bluewhale52​ @stcrwhiz​ @sweeneyblue1​ @minglossx​ @butterflylion​ @veronawrites​ @immafuckyoutilyouaint1​

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

SO GOOD OMG??? wow... I- wow.

All Fervent Manner [M]

➬ Title | All Fervent Manner

➬ Summary | He is a man of class, but also a man with secrets. And he has no qualms in giving you the entire universe if you had asked him to. At least, those are the exact words he had given you then. But as time passes, you cannot help but notice that no matter how fierce he seems to love you, he always appears to be walking on eggshells. Perhaps it is your duty to release him from his binds. If only you just know how.

↳ Pairings | Jimin x reader

↳ Genre | Established Relationship!au, Smut, Angst

↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

↳ Warning | Sexual tension, a bit of an age gap (OC is 24 and Jimin is 32), dirty talk, intense foreplay, mentions of spanking, light bondage/restrictions, deep throat, cum eating, fingering (f receiving), oral sex/pussy eating, praise kink, clothed foreplay, dry humping, breast play, biting, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm control (orgasm denial/delay), mirror sex, multiple orgasms (with forced orgasm involved), aftercare.

↳ Word count | 19,7k words

↳ Music Companion | Come Away With Me - Norah Jones

➬ Cross post | AO3 

➬ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @opaljm​. | This was originally meant to be posted on Jimin’s birthday, but my block got in the way that I couldn’t finish this one on time. I’m so sorry for the long wait. I hope you’ll enjoy this one. I might come back to this to do a more proper editing in the future so I’m sorry if there’s a ton of mistakes in there. | Taglist: @jeonmisha​, @illicitjams​

There is something surreal about seeing him in this light.

Up close and personal. So close, you can make out every single expression that he makes whenever he speaks. The air around him seems to crackle with every delicate movement he makes, his energy rippling in the air to summon everyone’s attention on him, including yours.

But what makes it even more surreal is the fact that even when he has everyone’s eyes on him, vying for his attention as they all hope to have at least a single glance of acknowledgement from Jimin, he only has his eyes on you.

The same way he is doing it to you now, giving you his rapt attention even when you are chatting about something so trivial—your daily routines, the short encounter you had earlier today with Mr. Rasheed from next door, a simple joke shared by one of your co-workers at the office today—between sipping wine and savouring your meal. His gaze is so intense that people may think you are talking about world peace or other life altering matters, and most possibly completely oblivious to how his eyes are making you feel like you are floating in the air while being rooted in place at the same time.

That is just what Park Jimin does to you.

Keep reading

CRYING CRYING IM PISSED LOL NIKKI.

you wrote it beautifully, and IMMA SMACK TF OUTTA THIS MUSCLE PIG. WATCH IT KOO LOL.

pick & roll | LA Lakers - one shot (jjk)

point guard | jeon jungkook

♛ genre: friends with benefits, brother’s bestfriend (ft. kim namjoon) | heavy angst, smut

♛ summary: being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.

♛ pairing: reader x nba player!jjk, fuckboy!jjk

♛ words: 19.2k

♛ warnings: buckle in cause you’re in for a treat 🤧 this is going to be messy and it’s intended to be that messy sorry lol, tried to make this as relatable as possible by drawing from personal experiences and sprinkling them in 🥲, tattooed jungkook but no piercings cause nba rules 😅 cussing/mature language, special appearances by lakers dj & stanley + clippers jay, subtle hints of namjoon’s fic through oc 👀, there’s one mention of taehyung in here haha, lots of flashback scenes (indicated), alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scenes, dancing, protected + unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, head game on 100 (oral m. & f. receiving), gagging, multiple orgasms, light spit play, breast play, marking, making out, grinding, ass smacking, fingering/clit play, praising, some dirty talk, use of pet names (like baby, princess, babygirl), erotic asphyxiation, toxic, manipulative relationship shit **(pls heed with caution)**, accusations, rumors, crying, yelling, physical altercation, jungkook is just a selfish dick on a power trip

♛ one-shot playlist: met him last night - demi lovato & ariana // start a riot - duckwrth & shaboozey // act up - rich brian & earthgang // toxic - kehlani // nights like this (live) - kehlani

“Fuck— that’s it right there, baby girl— shit.” Jungkook breathily moans as his hand is locked onto the back of your head, pretty lips wrapped around his length. He cocks your head back and forth, keeping the tip of his cock knocking at the back of your throat, waiting until he feels you gag before releasing. “Look at you.” He smirks, amused by the thick saliva trail that connects his tip to your bottom lip. He sees the tears staining your cheeks, eyes still full of lust and begging for more of him. “Tell me you can take more, baby.”

Which, he’ll gladly give to you since you’re sitting so prettily on your knees for him.

Keep reading

CRYING CRYING IM PISSED LOL NIKKI.

you wrote it beautifully, and IMMA SMACK TF OUTTA THIS MUSCLE PIG. WATCH IT KOO LOL.

pick & roll | LA Lakers - one shot (jjk)

point guard | jeon jungkook

♛ genre: friends with benefits, brother’s bestfriend (ft. kim namjoon) | heavy angst, smut

♛ summary: being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.

♛ pairing: reader x nba player!jjk, fuckboy!jjk

♛ words: 19.2k

♛ warnings: buckle in cause you’re in for a treat 🤧 this is going to be messy and it’s intended to be that messy sorry lol, tried to make this as relatable as possible by drawing from personal experiences and sprinkling them in 🥲, tattooed jungkook but no piercings cause nba rules 😅 cussing/mature language, special appearances by lakers dj & stanley + clippers jay, subtle hints of namjoon’s fic through oc 👀, there’s one mention of taehyung in here haha, lots of flashback scenes (indicated), alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scenes, dancing, protected + unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, head game on 100 (oral m. & f. receiving), gagging, multiple orgasms, light spit play, breast play, marking, making out, grinding, ass smacking, fingering/clit play, praising, some dirty talk, use of pet names (like baby, princess, babygirl), erotic asphyxiation, toxic, manipulative relationship shit **(pls heed with caution)**, accusations, rumors, crying, yelling, physical altercation, jungkook is just a selfish dick on a power trip

♛ one-shot playlist: met him last night - demi lovato & ariana // start a riot - duckwrth & shaboozey // act up - rich brian & earthgang // toxic - kehlani // nights like this (live) - kehlani

“Fuck— that’s it right there, baby girl— shit.” Jungkook breathily moans as his hand is locked onto the back of your head, pretty lips wrapped around his length. He cocks your head back and forth, keeping the tip of his cock knocking at the back of your throat, waiting until he feels you gag before releasing. “Look at you.” He smirks, amused by the thick saliva trail that connects his tip to your bottom lip. He sees the tears staining your cheeks, eyes still full of lust and begging for more of him. “Tell me you can take more, baby.”

Which, he’ll gladly give to you since you’re sitting so prettily on your knees for him.

Keep reading

bruh I cried a lot LOL but I love them 🥺🥺🥺

Before Spring; Min Yoongi. Masterlist

Completed. 

Before Spring; Min Yoongi.☂☀︎

premise: Yoongi and you have been best friends for a long time, but lately he’s been blowing you off and doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong meanwhile you begin to spiral downwards in the idea that other people are becoming more important to him and he’s drifting from you. All you can wonder is how it will turn out.

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Epilogue

Bonus part(s):

Yoongi and Y/N’s picnic a year before the story smau

“My only regret is not telling you I love you sooner” smau

THIS WAS SO CUTE

jjk|| Go Get 'Em!

wc: 11.8K / oneshot

summary: You and your bestie get accepted into college together, but as your work load piles on, how will your relationship change?

tags: best friends to lovers, college au, footballplayer!jk (can you tell i like writing football players?), fem!biologystudent!y/n, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: mention of trouble eating, 18+ mature content, explicit language, angst, unprotected sex (please be safe and wear a condom), use of the word d*e, mention of alcohol consumption

a/n: This is for My-Linh, the most hardworking bio student I know. Love you. Also, I wrote most of this to "betty" by Taylor Swift. I have a whole playlist for this fic, actually...I'll post it but only if you ask. @koolvrr BETAED EXTENSIVELY by: @destructiveasparagus

-

The day you got your acceptance letter, Jungkook climbed through your window to celebrate with an order of wings and two liters of coke. He scans your letter with his own eyes, his fingers gripping it like a Golden Ticket. His mouth full of chicken, he hums in satisfaction.

"Yeah, if you got into LSU...I got a recruiter to impress," he crosses his arms. "Wow, y/n…Fuck you."

You take a sip of your pop, rolling your eyes. "I settled, to be honest! I could have gone T20 and really screwed you over…" you mumble. Jungkook smirks.

"You're too much of a baby to leave me behind." He throws himself on your bed, holding his head up with an arm.

"You're the one with the scholarship to play for Ohio State, refuse to go, and you're calling me the baby? That's rich." You cross your legs, ruffling his hair playfully.

"What kind of name is Buckeyes, anyways…" he mutters, tossing a bone into the take out bag at the foot of the bed. "Where is Dallas going?"

Dallas had been your boyfriend of eight months. It's the classic boy meets girl, and the both of you pair nicely at lunch. He's insanely smart and so pretty-- you couldn't be more in love, or so you thought.

Just a week ago, Dallas had sat you down and explained to you he'd been accepted into Vanderbilt, and that he wouldn't be taking any chances.

"While you're here though--" he wryly exclaims, "Why not stay together, just for the remainder of the semester?"

You shake your head. "If you didn't want a future with me, why did you even confess in the first place? I know we're just kids, Dal, but I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, I was looking for someone who'd stay by my side. I guess I wasn't clear enough." With a smile on your face, you walked away from him. It was time to step into your future. You were about to be a university student, an adult. You deserved an adult relationship.

Jungkook would flash a smile every time you pass each other at the lunch line, nodding at Dallas. It was a respectful kind of thing, but it felt weird to him now that you two weren't a thing. He avoided talking about it.

A face of revulsion paints Jungkook's face.

"Awh that's traaaaash…" He wipes his mouth. "I can't believe I share a locker room with such a jerk." Your phone dings and you double tap the screen quickly to catch it.

"I got an A on my bio exam!" you announce, taking another bite out of your hot chicken and dancing a little. "I love Ms. Silvermen so much…"

"You deserve it~!" he hisses. "Didn't you study for like 8 hours for that exam?" He grabs a book you have on your nightstand, opens it and places it over his eyes, pretending to sleep.

"Mhm, it was on mitosis and meiosis, Kookie-- The most important unit test of the whole semester!" You defend your actions to a snoozing Jungkook. You poke him.

"Stop…" he slurs. You sit back and pout. Maybe you should take this opportunity to study.You reach for your laptop across Jungkook's legs and open it to your unfinished assignment.

One finished assignment turns into fifteen done that week, turns into a month of completed work in rainy April, turns into blooming May and, finally, June.

You watched your caps shoot into the sky and fall down like stars. Heart full of pride, you strode across the stage, celebrating the growth you've accumulated over the course of twelve years. By your side was your best friend, drawing little smiley faces on your hand as you watched the rest of the ceremony attentively.

He stole half of your honor chords and snapped a selfie with you at the door of the school as you walked towards the car. Looking back at you, you looked like an angel. He couldn't have been more proud of you than on that day. You two had made it, together.

Whenever you felt down, like your work overwhelmed you, Jungkook was on the way to help you get through those flashcards. Those same flashcards now sat idly in one of your many drawers, waiting to be recycled.

Sorting through your belongings was no easy task. You had hoarded quite a bit since freshman year, but you had grown out of quite a bit.

You needed Jungkook's muscles to carry all of the donation boxes downstairs, at least that's what your mother insisted as the reason for inviting him over, although secretly she just wanted him to help out your Dad with one of his projects. He wouldn't stop bothering her about it. Ah, the benefits of having a muscle bunny best friend.

"What's up Mrs.Y/L/N," he yells and takes his shoes off at the door. His nose turns up at the scent of pie. "Is that apple pie?" He rubs his hands together as he walks into the kitchen.

Inside, you're holding a bowl in your hand, mixing the brownies with a wooden spoon. "How convenient! Here." You give him the bowl. "Mix that."

"Hello to you too, Y/N," he scoffs. You watch as Jungkook struggles to incorporate the cocoa powder into the mixture.

"Give me that back," you giggle. Jungkook hands it over, putting his hands on his hips. "Hello, Jungkook." Your eyes glance up to meet him. His knees grow weak at your teasing smile.

"Y/N hasn't started on her room yet, she wanted to wait until you came to sort things out," your mom hummed. "You know the drill, hm? Leave that door open, okay?" She turned slightly from where she was standing over the sink.

"Of course, Mrs.Y/L/N." His good boy act was one of the funniest things to watch. He acted all innocent, as if he wasn't a boneafide menace. Something about his duality you found incredibly hot. His kind eyes met yours. "We should get to work," he gestured towards the stairs. You complied.

"She still thinks we're gonna end up together, huh?" A subtle smile tugs at his lips as he climbs up the stairs. "Does that bother you at all?" he asks.

"Huh?" You thought about it. It did bother you; it bothered you because you hoped she was right. "Oh! No, it's fine."

The thought of ending up with anyone other than him made your stomach feel funny. Jungkook has had girlfriends before.

They'd show up to his games, sit with him during lunch with his crew, and hang out after school at the mall or wherever, but every time things started to get serious, Jungkook got cold feet.

Every crush he's had, you've known about. Despite being supportive of almost all of them, it would seem that Jungkook had the worst luck when it came to finding the kind of love he was looking for. That's only because you were right in front of him this whole time. If only he'd stop being such a doofus--

Jungkook is patiently awaiting a response to a question you did not hear, searching your eyes for any sign that you'd heard him. He rolls his eyes. "What do you want to go through first? I think we should start with the closet."

"Yeah, the closet would be a good idea.” You two head inside, leaving the door slightly ajar.

By nightfall, stacks of unwanted gadgets and gizmos lined the outside of your room. All that was left to do was carry them downstairs and drop them off.

"Can I borrow your Dad's truck?" he asks as he stumbles down the stairs by your side.

"You'll have to ask him," you pause, halfway down. "Can you sleep over today?"

"Isn't it the Fourth of July?" He wrinkles his eyebrows.

You nod. "We're having a bonfire tomorrow night. It's gonna be a lot of fun, we're making s'mores and everything."

It's already dark outside, and it would be such a bother to drive all the way home. Would it be that big of a deal if he slept over? He'd only have to pull out the bed from the couch, and you had spare sheets and pillows. Besides, that would mean he could drop off donations that morning with Dad.

"Okay but you," Jungkook pokes you lightly, "have to ask Mom."

"Ugh," you groan. "It'll be worth it."

Morning came, and you found Jungkook tangled in his sheets downstairs wearing nothing but his spiderman boxers and a t-shirt when you came downstairs for breakfast.

You hum quietly, amused. Endearing. "Jungkook." You push him gently. He continues snoring lightly, like a little angel. "Jungkook, c'mon. Breakfast!" You push a little rougher. Nothing.

That meant you had to wake him up the only surefire way you knew: food.

You rub your eyes lightly as you take the griddle down from the cabinet and plug it in. Pouring a bag of pancake mix into a bowl, you sigh softly. You locate the chocolate chips and sprinkle them in by heart, the only way to measure chocolate chips. Adding the milk, you mix it around until it's uniform and use a ladle to pour it on the hot surface.

Within five minutes, the boy pokes his head into the kitchen. He's now wearing pants. With his eyes wide and his hair a mess, he appears next to you with a pout on his lips. "Y/N, this one is mine," he whispers, pointing to the biggest one.

"No, it's mine." You wedge your spatula underneath the doughy disk and flip it over to reveal a golden brown surface.

"Who says? I'm older, so it's mine," he whines. You shake your head softly. "Let me flip it, let me flip it--" he insists, taking the spatula from your hand.

You let him take over, slightly annoyed as you put away the ingredients. "Why do you feel the need to do what I'm doing, always?"

Jungkook shrugs, sniffing. "I don't like to see you work too hard," he says. You worked too hard without having to carry his ass. It was only natural that he helped you out with things you were less keen on.

Every time Jungkook didn't understand a concept in math or in chemistry, you'd explain it and he'd get it. Things didn't always make sense to him, but you made it make sense. You were so special to him.

You hug his waist from behind as he works on the griddle. You tuck your head into his back, still a little groggy. "Dad's gonna be back in like ten minutes," you mumble.

"I asked him if I could borrow the truck and he said yes." Jungkook waddles over to the utensil drawer and gets out two forks. "Y/N--" he wiggles his hips in an attempt to shake you off. You don't let go.

"Hm," you grunt.

"I gotta get the syrup," he complains. You release him, allowing him to reach the third shelf and catch the maple syrup. "Can you get me two plates over there?" He nods towards the cabinets next to the fridge.

You get on your tiptoes to reach, trying not to make too much noise as you take them down. Jungkook slides four slices of pancakes onto your plate before making his plate. "I think...that Finn and Jake would approve," he smiles.

You hear your Dad pull up the driveway. "He's here with stuff for the bonfire. You can come and help us unload if you want," you offer as you hastily slide on your flip flops before heading out. Jungkook follows you to the front, having put everything away in the kitchen.

While Jungkook was out with your donations, you and your mom cleaned up the house and set everything up in the backyard. You carried all the chairs outside, set them up around the fire pit, set up the food table, and the projector for movie night. All you need to do now is wait for Jungkook and Dad to come back.

You take a chip from the chip bowl, and shove it in your mouth. What do they talk about without you? You hope your Dad wasn't being embarrassing.

The sun is just beginning to set, the golden sky transitioning into a rosy pink as the sun sinks below your field of vision.

The backdoor to the house swings open, and two familiar faces emerge from it. "We're back!" your Dad announces. Jungkook's carrying a bag in each hand, lightly jogging towards you. He's got your Dad's cap on backwards with his shirt unbuttoned all the way in his loose blue jeans.

"Hey!" He sets down the stuff on the snack table and grins at you. "They were appreciative of the donations, and told us to come back any time." He sits himself down on the lawn chair next to you and gets comfortable while your Dad lights the fire.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" You nodded towards the bags Jungkook had placed on the table.

"I'll show you later," Jungkook says conspicuously. "Have you figured out the projector yet?" You hadn't, but of course Jungkook figured out how to fix it in like five seconds.

It was a classic horror film, in which a group of friends enter a haunted house and fight their way out.

As the movie progresses, slowly but surely, your body shifts closer to his until your hands collapse into one another's. Neither of you speak, terrified to look down.

A loud crack followed by a fizzing noise causes your hands to retract from one another. A flash of light in the sky appears, it's tail cutting through the darkness. It explodes into a gorgeous display of light. "Look, Jungkook! Fireworks…"

Jungkook swallows. "The recruiter liked me," he yells over the crackling of the fireworks.

"The one at Louisiana State?!" You sit up from your chair and look back at him.

Jungkook nods, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "We're going to college."

Right then, the biggest and brightest firework bursts and fills the sky with color. It would be another four years with the best friend you could ever ask for.

-

"Okay, so you're gonna turn left on Dalrymple Street from Highland…and then you find somewhere to park, then meet me at the Welcome Center." You swerve into the student parking lot, talking loudly into your phone. The traffic is a nightmare, and you're gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

"I'm still on Highland, it doesn't look good," his muffled voice sounds from the speakers on your device. You sigh heavily, bonking your head on the wheel and causing it to go off. You snap your head up in surprise.

"Hahah..." Jungkook cackles. "You're not gonna survive. You're gonna somehow sabotage yourself in the first week and everyone's gonna wonder what happened to that girl who always raised her hand in class--" You hang up on him, passive aggressively.

Your phone vibrates on your thigh as you successfully park at a parking spot practically a mile from the welcome center. Good enough. You snatch your key and lanyard from the engine and step outside. Why did everything have to be so far?

Fifteen minutes later, Jungkook emerges from the crowd in front of the building, grabbing your wrist. You jump, startled at the sudden touch.

"Relax, fuck..." Jungkook's nose twitches. "So tense." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a spiderman lanyard with an ID attached to it. "Look at the picture I chose," he proudly sneers, waving it in your face.

It's that photo he's been using for his profile picture on Instagram for 5 years. You said it made him look like a hotshot once and he hasn't changed it since. Truthfully, it's not a bad picture, but it doesn't represent the guy who's standing in front of you now. No, this couldn't be him.

"That's such an old photo, why didn't you just take a new one?" you bicker, running your fingertips across the imprint of his name and student number.

"I thought you liked that picture!" he whines, snatching it back. He stuffs it back in his pocket with his wallet. "We have so much to do...Let's head inside?"

You spend the rest of the day filling out paperwork next to one another, your legs crossed over in a chair facing him with a clipboard. You were only granted a map of campus after you completed the last page.

"Okay," you huff, unfolding the map. "I live…" you trace your finger along the paths on campus. "Here," you tap the freshman dorm building. Jungkook takes out his cell phone and snaps a picture of where you had marked it, along with your dorm room.

He zooms into the picture and gives you a nod. "I got it." He puts the phone back in his pocket.

"Great," you place the map neatly into your purse. "I need to pick up my textbooks and see which buildings my classes are in. I know you're hungry, so you should figure out lunch."

"Right, yeah…" Jungkook bites his lip. "I'll swing by after the party, okay?" He holds up the spare key he'd been given.

It was more of a leadership camp, if he was honest.

He would be introduced to the team captain, the coach, and his team members-- some of whom he'd had plastered as posters on his wall. If that wasn't awkward, he didn't know what awkward was. These men meant business, but it was Jungkook's type of business.

The freshmen were from all over the country, players whose pass yards exceeded those of professional players. Excitement and testosterone filled the air as the men opened up and vibed with one another about their experiences related to their sport and their passions.

When it came to Jungkook's time to share why he chose LSU, he bit his tongue. You were all that came to mind. His mouth ran dry, palms quaking from all the eyes on him.

"You know, uhm…" He gripped the leather football tightly, shaking his head. "Just liked the energy," he shrugged.

Assorted players nodded their heads as Jungkook passed the ball to his left so that the next person could speak.

Back at your dorm, you stab a piece of microwave ravioli in your pyjama pants in the dorm kitchen. A rerun of Friends is on, and it's interesting enough to keep you from changing the channel. Chandler is being a weirdo again, and Monica is having absolutely none of it.

You cover your mouth, giggling while you chew. Looking down, you double tap your phone to check if Jungkook has texted yet. He hasn't.

Finished with your dinner, you toss the plastic in the sink to wash and reuse later. You take a last swig of your water and set the mug down next to the container.

You hope Jungkook was having fun with his new teammates. He could use the team building. Humming, you open up to chapter one of your Biology textbook and cross your legs on the bed.

You're knocked out, gripping your phone with your mouth open in less than ten minutes. After confirming you were not, in fact, assigned a roommate, Jungkook used your spare key to barge in.

Upon discovering you drooling on your pillow with your limbs sticking out in every direction, a smile invades Jungkook's face. Looking around, he reaches for your study sharpie. He snaps the cap off.

Just as he's about to draw a note on your arm, you shift in your sleep, mumbling something along the lines of his name. He raises his eyebrows, stepping back. Should he respond?

"Junkook you doofus…" your eyebrows furrow, lips pouting slightly.

Rolling his eyes, he puts your marker back and walks off, closing the door behind him.

"...I'm right here," you sigh.

-

People don't believe Jungkook when he says he has lady problems.

He has no problem getting their attention and sparking their interest, not when he's a mega hot linebacker with a cute face.

No, the problem is keeping them around. The girls who drool over Jungkook also drool over his buddy, also drool over the student body president. It was chill for the first year of highschool, but got old real fast.

Jungkook has slept with half of the cheerleading team, pulled out his phone, and texted you about dinner plans after the game.

"Not dating." Jungkook would correct his team when they addressed you as his girl or when they tested him about not having any romantic feelings for you. The topic was as dry as the cafeteria chicken tenders by junior year.

It didn't bother him that much, especially when he always had you in his mind's eye. Anyone who threatened that had always failed, eventually. So what if he avoided truly exploring what he felt towards you. He sure as hell wasn't going to lose you.

Jungkook seesawed his ticonderoga pencil between his index and middle finger as he listened to his English lecture with a single earbud in.

"Ugh, I thought I was done with English when I chose to be a Bio major 🙄🙄🙄" pops up in the corner of his screen. Pencil eraser wedged between his teeth, he flashes a smile at your annoyance.

You take a sip of your morning brew and raise your eyebrows at him, sitting at least five rows in front of you. "Hm," you hum.

Moments later, your pocket buzzes. You whip out your phone and read Jungkook's message: "Shut up, you're good at English anyways."

You swipe your fingers over the keyboard, quickly replying, "Yeah, but do we really have to be here at 8 AM?" to which Jungkook responds by twisting himself around to face you and pouting.

"I hate how I have to carry another card around to eat in the dining hall," you complain to Jungkook as you walk side-by-side to your seats.

He plucks an apple from your tray and shrugs. "At least the food is kinda better," he says with his mouth full, like a child.

Jungkook's forearms hold his upper body as he leans against the table. On his knuckles, you're drawn to a doodle in black ink. It's a little heart, a little lopsided but that's ok. Following your gaze, Jungkook glances down at his hand. "Oh, that. What? You don't doodle on your hands?"

"I mean...yeah, I do. But you only ever draw hearts on your hands when you have a crush on someone." Your lips contort into an evil smirk. He thumbs over the blotch, rubbing it furiously in an attempt to get it off.

"Nuh-uh. I drew this cause I'm thinking of getting finger tats." Jungkook rolls his eyes, licking the inside of his cheek.

"If your mom heard what you just said, you'd be a dead man," you remind him. Mrs. Jeon was a sweet old Christian woman with a rather,, strict parenting philosophy. You'd give your month's allowance to witness the reaction to her son's full sleeve. Personally, however, the idea of Jungkook getting a tattoo entertained you a little too much.

"There's this guy-- Tony? He's got a full sleeve and I think it looks sick." He slouches back on the plastic cafeteria chair, comically small for his grown ass. "C'mon, Y/N...You've been so pent-up with your work lately. I've already caught wind of like five homecoming parties happening before next weekend and you haven't even heard of any of them." His face grows dire, a hint of worry in his eyes.

"It's not like I can come to any of them, I have so many assignments to do, it's not even funny…" You fork a piece of pasta and shove it in your mouth. "Besides, I hate the crowds. You know that."

"It must be so hard to be you, Y/N," Jungkook says, half-sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You drop your fork and look up at him.

"I mean, you've got all these hard classes and stuff, and it would totally be the end of the world if you missed one night of studying and showed up at one of our rallies for once." He lets out a chuckle.

"You know how important grades are in the first semester…it determines my grade-point-average." You lower your voice.

"No, I don't know, Y/N," he says.

"What I don't get," he shakes his head. "What I don't get is why you can't miss out on one of your little study group meetings to come to our pep rally."

It was like a smack to the face. You raked your mind for a coherent response, but none came, only excuses.

"Right. I would have accepted that scholarship to Ohio if I knew you'd be this much of a hard ass." He picked up your finished tray, threw it away, and left the cafeteria.

Your gaze followed him out. You couldn't believe he was being this immature now that you're the one struggling with work. It almost felt justified, though. It was true that you haven't had the time to meet his new college buddies, but you didn't anticipate it being such a big deal to Jungkook.

I don't know.

It just felt like time was moving too fast. Mornings where you struggled to get out of bed led to late nights studying with a cup of tea and gentle music to keep you focused led to an uncharged phone and an uncharged social battery. Walking to your classes on campus, you scrolled past Jungkook's frequent posts promoting their fundraisers, get-togethers, and socials. Everything just felt so...distant. LSU had an image to uphold when it came to football. As his best friend, you should have been able to accept that and adjust, no-problem.

You don't recall when Jungkook stopped messaging you specifically about his parties, and then in general. All you know is that his presence became less and less needed.

You sit in front of a mirror, tugging at the skin on your temple, staring in horror at the ghost that you had become . You try a smile, which withers into a horrifying grimace. Tears form at the brim of your waterline, your face swelling in grief of your youth. You collapse into your own hands, an indulgent sob escaping your mouth. You only wanted to help others. You lived your life in the pursuit of helping people, so how did you always end up so alone?

Your cell phone vibrates.

Your hand reaches to silence it.

Your cell phone vibrates yet again.

You flip your phone's screen over and bury your head in your arms.

Your cell phone vibrates finally.

You lift your head from your shoulders.

The post was from the official private Instagram of the team. At first it appeared to be a normal picture of a casual hang-out session. It's a picture of the team sitting around a fire pit, marshmallow sticks and all, posing like they're having the time of their lives. You pick up your thumb to scroll, not thinking anything of it, when, in the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook. Huh. Your thumb must have been covering him.

A big old smile paints his face. His legs are spread across the foldable chair and his hair now falls beside his face in loose waves. As your eyes travel to his right, a tall and beautiful young woman stands proudly with his arm around her waist.

A metallic taste fills your mouth. Everything feels like it's spinning, and your hands tremble as you use your thumbs to zoom in on the happy couple. Your heartbeat deafens you as you inhale deeply, the familiar taste of your tears spreading on your tastebuds.

You frantically close out of Instagram and open your messages to find a string of unread messages from Jungkook starting from late November to a week ago. The last message delivered read:

"Yeah, I got the answers from Hayley...thanks :)" delivered

You scrolled up.

"Do you think you could get me the notes from today's lecture?" delivered

"I'm gonna have to retake this class, I swear…" delivered

"Hey how've you been?" delivered

"Hey, what's up?" delivered

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" delivered

"You'll do great on the test. You're always studying so there's no way you'll bomb it." delivered

"Hey, are you ok?" delivered

"guess what, Y/N?" delivered

"I've been missing you lately, if you ever need me, I'm here…" delivered

You press and hold that message. Your emotions battle your own rationality over reaching for the call button. You instead find yourself getting into a staring contest with the photo posted of tonight.

Had he taken her home? What if she put her hands on him? What if he let her? What if they were tangled up in each other and he's grabbing her ass as she's wrapping her legs around his waist, and they're ripping the clothes off one another right this second?

In a tizzy of frustration, you smack your phone against the desk and throw yourself on the bed. Hot tears stain your bed sheets as you lay yourself down to sleep.

Jungkook's hands form fistfuls of the white duvet covering his lower body. Beside him is the sleeping girl, breathing slow breaths with her hair undone.

His tattooed hand reaches over to stroke her cheek with his thumb. His eyelashes bat softly, observing her. His chest tightens, and he retracts his hand away.

He sits up, putting a cup of water to his lips and swallowing. He sits up, eyes falling on his reflection across the room in the black void of the television screen. He runs one hand through his mane, watching as his own face contorts the longer he stares.

5 years ago

You carried your black debate pumps in your hand as you paced down the hall of your middle school. This was during a time when hurricanes would close down school for weeks at a time, and the last tournament of your 8th grade year had just concluded.

A banner reading "Class of ____" hung above the trophy display. You stopped to admire them.

Your mom wasn't going to pick you up until seven, and you had to keep yourself busy somehow.

"Ah, fuck!" *smack!*

You jerked your head around at the sudden yelp. You found a boy furiously rubbing the top of his head in pain on the ground. He looked...damp. "Did you hit your head?" You came over, the feet of your hosiery allowing you to glide.

"No, but now my ass hurts." He collapsed on the floor, laying there for a bit. He looked like he just ran through the school sprinklers. Chest rising and falling violently, a trouble-making smile tainted his face.

"What are you even doing, it's a Friday and you're not in the debate club." The boy turned his head to meet your eyes above his body.

"Tryouts were today, and I got in!" He hoisted himself up, leaning on his hands. Panting softly, he swallowed, but did not elaborate.

"C'mon, get up." You offered your hand to him. With a small grunt, he stood up. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and picked up his duffel bag. "What grade are you in?"

"I'm in 8th grade, but I just moved here so my schedule is all weird," he shrugged. "I know who you are, you're Y/N. You're that girl who won the science fair this year. I didn't go but my friend said you were cool."

Your project had been on cell structure. It wasn't anything overly fancy, but it was the first time you had felt like your work had a purpose.

Jungkook's eyes suddenly perked up in curiosity. "Hm?" You turned to where he was staring. "What is it?"

"No way, I like Adventure Time too!" he beamed, gesturing to your bag. "So you're like...Princess Bubblegum?" You hummed. The chime of your ringtone interrupted your conversation.

"That's...my mom. She's picking me up now." You bite your lip. "Do you need a ride?" Jungkook shook his head.

"I'll walk you to the front." He stepped forward, carrying your pumps down the hall with you while you're on the phone.

Side by side, you walked off to the front of the school while the rain poured and the thunder roared outside. "You know how Princess Rainicorn speaks Korean? Well, I'm Korean so I can tell you what she says…"

-

Your fingers meddle with the strings of your earbuds as you thoughtfully look out the library window. You can't bring yourself to focus.

Although crowded on weekdays, weekends at the library serve as a sanctuary for your thoughts and contemplations. The nostalgic feeling of childish wonder lingers in this place, even if the academic works and literature it holds are far beyond your personal lexicon.

You hold your knees to your chest, sitting on a lounge cushion chair. The song you were listening to cuts out suddenly. Your eyes dart to your screen. Your wifi has gone out. Wonderful.

Rolling your eyes, you reach your hand up to your ear to pluck out an earbud before a familiar laugh catches your attention. You retract your hand.

"Come on, will you stop being such a stick in the mud?" Jungkook grabs the girl's cardigan sleeve, tugging her back towards him. "It's literally just for the weekend," he stumbles forward.

"No, I have to study," the girl giggles. "Unlike some people, I have academic prospects to look out for." Although her body is jerking away from his hold, she can't seem to escape.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jungkook spots you, curled up in your own little world. His grip loosens on her. She carefully pulls her cardigan back from him, a mixture of puzzled and relieved on her face. She paces away quickly.

Jungkook is left in the middle of the adult fiction section, his eyes observing you pretending to be busy. He tugs on the strap of his backpack, allows himself one last look, and then leaves.

Slamming the library door, Jungkook flies down the stairs with his hands in his pockets, battling scrambled emotions and even more scrambled thoughts.

Guilt weighs heavy on your heart. You didn't even turn around to face him. Did that make you a bad person? Your counselor didn't think so.

"Friends will come and go, Y/N. You're doing so well, your focus is exactly where it should be right now. I'm proud of you for that." Ms. Bernstein's red-tainted lips curl into a smile. She reaches over her desk, a decorated pot of mints in her wrinkled hand. "Take one or two. I don't care."

You pluck a wrapped dinner mint from her stockpile and save it in your left pocket. "So there's no way I could drop that one class and take it next year?" you ask again. She shakes her head, eyes on her lap.

"I'm afraid not. You're on track."

If this was on track, you wonder what being off the rails was like. You walk out of the office, thanking the counselor on your way out. You pop the mint in your mouth and keep walking.

Jungkook takes off his shoes near the door of his dorm and opens his fridge, scanning it for anything and everything. Tapping his fingers rhythmically against the fridge door. He slaps turkey and cheese against the counter and goes scavenger hunting for the bread.

From the couch, Ron shouts "You should have some fruit with that!" Jungkook takes out two slices of bread and smothers them in a layer of mayonnaise. It takes him a second to realize Ron had said anything.

"Huh?" He slices the sandwich into triangles and takes an aggressive bite out of it.

"Coach says we need to eat more fruit," he says with a shrug. There are only apples in the fruit bowl.

"But there are only apples in the stupid fruit bowl," Jungkook complains.

"Yeah, eat an apple then." He sinks into the couch, crossing his arms. "Crybaby."

"No!" He puts away the mayo and sticks the butter knife into a random cup inside the sink and disappears into his room. Ron scoffs.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't know it was that time of the month," he grunts to himself, unpausing the game. "Sheesh."

Elsewhere, you're standing in front of the dairy section of the grocery store, judging whether or not you'd actually eat the yogurt you're about to grab. On the one hand, it's on sale. On the other hand, it might just sit on your shelf for the rest of the semester like your feelings for Jungkook.

The ambient music mocks you as you contemplate the kind of pain you caused yourself. Running errands is the only time you excuse yourself from studying. "That's not healthy…" you mumble as you place a single yogurt into your cart. Your body could only handle so much stress.

Shuffling your way to the register, you glance over your makeshift grocery list in your notes app and make sure everything is there. "Pfff...eggs, milk, snacks, water, spicy ramyeon…"

Jungkook hooked you up the first night you came over to watch him play Overwatch. He stood over the stove with wooden chopsticks and, as he cracked an egg directly into the noodles, stirred vigorously. "Y/N watch the magic happen," he'd say in his flannel pyjama bottoms and long sleeve undershirt. You peeked over his arm to learn from the master.

"Sprinkle in some scallions...and…" He set his utensils down and leaned over the stove. "Mmm...you're gonna--" Jungkook devilishly smirked, "you're gonna love this." It looked yummy, but knowing Jungkook he probably fucked with it somehow.

With caution, you huffed on the noodles and stuffed them into your mouth. Your tongue stung from the immediate contact with steaming hot food, but there's something else. A pleasant and addictive burn warmed the back of your throat. "Why is it spicy?" you inquired with your mouth full.

He slammed the packaging on the countertop. "Spicy Ramyeon," he gestured. "It's what I eat when I can't be bothered to actually have dinner. Don't tell Coach."

Having bought everything you need, you lock the door to your dorm, put away the groceries, and go take a shower before bed.

Jungkook couldn't count how many times he thought of just opening up his messenger app and messaging you one more time just in case. Not gonna lie--his pride was hurt, and his heart ached because of the fact you had left him.

There was a lot of shit he either had to learn to do himself or Google because you'd usually take care of it.

He struggles to keep track of his assignments these days. You two shared so many classes last year that you'd just worked on it together. Not only that, but he's blown his entire grocery budget for the month of November on a pair of shoes-- he's making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner.

He must've had a bitch on his dick for every day of the week; he must've had a new club to hit every week, but the nature of the young women who approached him was shallow, and they never stayed for breakfast.

And they were never you.

Recently, though, something really pissed him off. It happened in the beginning of his college algebra class.

Jungkook was minding his own business, getting his laptop out and opening up his notes like a normal person when a guy, like a foot taller than Jungkook, approached him. Jungkook shrunk in his seat. "Uh...can I help you?"

"Yo, you're the dude who's always hanging around y/n, right?" Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the dude interjected. "You're not her boyfriend, right?" I mean, he wasn't. That was a fact.

"No, why?" he challenged.

"I was wondering if you could introduce me to her. She's super hot, so…" he said. Jungkook's nostrils flared. Who the fuck did he think he was? If he wanted your number he should have gone and asked you himself. He must be a coward and therefore did not deserve your number.

"Nah…" he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair.

'Wait, why? You're not together, right? I just want to get to know her," he explained. Jungkook squinted his eyes, leaning forward and folding his fingers together. A silent staring contest commenced between the two before the guy gave him a weird look and went away.

"That's right, fucker…” Jungkook sucked in a breath and got started on his work.

You stumble into your 8AM class with your tote bag. Jungkook's pretending not to look your way as you drag your feet up the stairs and plop down on a seat. Your heart clenches a little every time you see him in your peripheral vision. He's right there, so close yet so miserably far.

You get a light tap on the shoulder. "Hey. Hey! Can your friend be more of a prick?" the dude who approached Jungkook earlier sneered.

"What do you mean?" You twist your body around to meet his.

"Is he always that protective of you? People are gonna think you're together!" he exclaimed.

Your eyes traveled to where Jungkook was sitting, casually scrolling on his phone. What the hell did he think he was doing?

You turned back to the man. He wasn't bad looking. He wasn't good looking either, but one date wouldn't be the end of the world.

"We're actually not even friends." The words slip out of your mouth before you have any time to think. "I don't know why people think we're together."

Jungkook had watched you break up with your old highschool boyfriend over this sort of thing. You were ready to have an adult relationship and you weren't afraid to prove it to him. Besides, he didn't own you.

"In that case," his lips contort into a satisfied grin, "Coffee, next week before class?"

A deep and hollow feeling builds in your chest as you utter the words: "It's a date."

-

Once he's home, Jungkook throws his keys on the counter and pulls off his clothes before jumping in the shower. Class was hell. His fingers rigorously massage his scalp, the scent of granny smith apples filling the air. He hates fucking apples.

He wipes the suds from his face and sighs with his back against the tile. "What the fuck, Jungkook," he sighs."What the fuck…"

In the other room, Ron's playing video games. "That boy's gonna get hurt," he shakes his head, listening to his tantrum. "But that is none of my business," he tosses another cheese puff into his mouth.

After struggling to put on your nice pair of boots, you flashed a smile at the mirror before picking up your purse at the dining table and heading out.

You've only ever dressed up like this for job interviews. One of the best things about college so far, in your opinion, was being able to dress however you liked. For you, that meant putting on a camisole under a hoodie and sweatpants and walking into Physics with an iced coffee and a jaded look on your face.

What kind of guy found that attractive? This one, apparently.

He wore a collared dress shirt underneath a long sleeved cotton sweater with a silver watch and dark wash denim jeans. He wanted to make a statement. His confidence stood out to you, the way he prompted conversation effortlessly was nothing short of charming. You had a good time. Sure, you had a great time.

Fifteen minutes into the encounter, he's mentioning to you how well his brother's business venture in Toronto is doing, and you're nodding as if you actually care.

Out of the blue, a familiar voice, muffled by the glass catches your attention. You try to remain engaged in conversation, but to no avail. The next moment, the voice grows closer, becoming discernable to your ear.

In your peripheral vision, you see Jungkook holding a bouquet of red roses pointed downward toward the pavement. He's trailing behind a girl who's evidently pissed, her heels clicking loudly against the concrete as she distances herself from him.

"Laura, please," he begs, "Laura, I got you these…" He holds up the dozen he'd gotten at the grocery store that morning.

"Tony was right, you can't love anyone but that girl you're obsessed with. He told me everything, Jungkook." She faces him now, wind blowing harshly through her long blonde hair.

Jungkook shrinks, gripping the plastic tighter by the second.

"You're so protective of her, you're so obsessed with keeping her away from other guys? This is why you can't ever be intimate or romantic with people, your heart belongs to that girl who you always tell people is your best friend or whatever but in reality, Jeon Jungkook? You're a coward. A stinking coward, and a kid who hasn't grown up enough emotionally to deal with the fact you have feelings for her." She stands and searches for a reply in Jungkook's face.

When none comes, she walks away, slipping through Jungkook's fingertips. He's stuck in time.

By the time you've zoned back in on your date, he's already figured you weren't invested in any of what he had to say. "I'm sorry," he breathes. "I believe someone else has your attention. It's apparent that you're preoccupied with…" he gestures towards Jungkook, who is now sitting on the bench outside the coffee shop, hunched over.

"Ah, yeah. I'm so sorry." You push out your chair. "I wish we would have met under different circumstances, but I have something to take care of." He's more than understanding of your situation, but that doesn't curb your embarrassment.

"Jungkook," his name leaves your mouth. You stand before him, clutching your purse. He shakes his head dismissively. "Jungkook, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"You moved on, Y/N. You're an adult woman now who deserves a real relationship, that's what you told me. All I'm trying to do is move on, too." Jungkook sets down the flowers next to him.

"Your idea of moving on is going around campus, intimidating the fuck out of every cute guy into not dating me? That's funny. So you can date around campus and I can't?" It's starting to get exhausting. He's exhausting to talk to at this point.

He shrugs.

So desperately, you wanted to know what happened to the guy who helped you move out of your parents’, the guy who took you out for wings after acing a math exam, the guy who wasn't ashamed to have a girl best friend. This one felt so broken.

"What's wrong with you?" Your eyes swell with unshed tears.

Frightened, Jungkook turns his head up and lifts up from his seat. His hands dart to touch your face, his thumb resting on your cheeks. "No, Y/N don't cry," he mumbles.

"No, no, Y/N. Don't cry," he says, softer. You shove him off of you, refusing to look back as you walk off. He didn't get to comfort you, not after he's the one who caused you all this pain.

As winter break approaches, You finally have a little bit of wiggle room in your schedule to make plans with friends. Who knows, maybe you'll go get coffee with someone, although this scenario became increasingly unlikely. The idea of going on a date excited you, but men seemed to avoid you like the plague now that Jungkook practically announced to the entire campus that you were his little girlfriend.

You decided to consult Marlene. You'd paired up during labs a few times now. The bond you two developed over stressing about percent errors created chemistry between you.

"It's 'cause Jungkook told the entire football team to stay away from you," Marlene said bluntly. Marlene stirred her Earl Grey, nodding. "Yeah. That's what I heard from Ron." She took out the spoon she'd been stirring her tea with and pointed it at you.

You melted into your sofa. "Whyyy...is Jeon Jungkook ruining my social life?" You groan. "I mean--"

"I mean, you kinda ghosted him." Marlene murmured, bringing the mug to her lips.

"I didn't ghost him--"

"You totally ghosted him, you totally did."

You cleared your throat. "It's just that he changed, you know? He's being such a dick." Marlene shrugged, placing her saucer down on the coffee table.

"I have the feeling that you two need to have a serious, adult conversation about the whole situation and leave everyone else out of it. It's getting messy, and that's never good." She was right. You just could not accept that truth at the time, because then you'd have to deal with the jarring reality that you had feelings for your best friend-- just as everyone expected.

Perhaps a part of you denied your own feelings in spite of those who had always suspected them.

If those feelings go unrequited, your entire relationship would fall out.

Then again, avoidance is just as detrimental to your friendship-- if you could even call it that at this point.

Even if men avoid you like the plague, at least you have made a couple friends through this whole fiasco. With the holidays right around the corner, you think it would be nice to get everyone a gift, so you go shopping. It's not like you have any money, but it was the thought that counted.

You're currently at the department store. You hold your breath as you go through the perfume section, eventually finding yourself in women's footwear. You glance down at your two year old converse. They're just fine for everyday use, but what if you were invited to a fancy holiday party? Did you know anyone who was likely to throw a fancy holiday party? No.

Bypassing the rest of the first floor, you step on the escalator leading upstairs towards accessories and lingerie. There were so many options. Like a valiant explorer, whacking wild leaves with a mighty machete, you pioneered the racks of lingerie sets for your size.

Jungkook had a habit of stealing panties at stores and putting them on his head. He pretended as if they're not there to try and make you laugh. You smile, reminded of the most innocent moments between the two of you.

The intricate lace between your fingers feels delicately beautiful. It was too sweet of a garment, like an indulgence. Your intuition got the best of you, and you added it to the pair of earrings you were getting for Marlene.

As you make your way towards the exit, you run into the men's formal wear section. The possibility of things going south between you and Jungkook was considerable, but the possibility of you getting a return on the gift was 100%.

Trying not to look too suspicious, you take a look at a myriad of dress shirts ranging from salmon to grape. He wears a medium, but you have to keep in mind that he's gotten a little more buff since football season started. Today, his dress shirts hugged his pecs and broad shoulders, barely held together by their buttons.

You're standing in the middle of the men's section, looking off into the distance. Jungkook is exactly parallel to you, on the other side of the store, watching you zone out about his pecs. He's got your gift in hand, but he freezes as soon as he realizes you're right there.

"Well, shit," he curses under his breath. Does he have enough time to awkwardly leave?

Nope.

You return your eyes to the tag you're holding, then turn your head to the side to spot the subject of your horny daydream.

"Oh." Your eyes dart to his hands. He's holding the exact handbag you've had on your online shopping list for a literal decade.

Terrified, Jungkook's thoughts bounce around like ping pong balls inside the apparently empty cavity that is his head at the moment. "Uh," he scratches his head.

You sigh deeply, plucking a solid black linen dress shirt from the rack. "Don't follow me," you warn. You turn and walk towards the register.

-

You gently fold Jungkook's dress shirt, having already washed and ironed it. The fabric feels so nice. Something was poking out from the folds of it.

You tease out the pair of panties you brought home earlier from his gift. Your cheeks get hot. That would have been a very bad mistake, had you given it to him like that.

"Y/N, I didn't know you felt that way about me," he'd say, when you know that he totally did know. "You put this in here on purpose?" he'd ask, when he knew you totally did not. Truthfully, he'd think it an honest mistake, but Jeon Jungkook would die before passing up the opportunity to tease you.

You place your hands on the chest of the shirt, making believe that it was his breathing chest.

Jungkook had taken you to homecoming all four years of highschool. He'd hold your waist delicately as you rested your head on his shoulder and rocked you to the pulse of the music when the night was old. "Are you okay like this?" You heard his voice humming through his body with your ear against him. You nodded.

"You're my best friend," you said quietly. Jungkook glanced up at the mirror wall. He watched as you swayed against him, entranced by the romantic music.

"Wish we could be more," he said, out loud.

Jungkook knew you were too drunk on jungle juice to understand him. "Hm?" You lifted your head up from him. He put his hand on your head, pressing it back into his chest softly.

"Shh...we should go to the store," he corrected, rubbing your back. "Come on, let's go home," he sighed.

You pick up the flyer you had taken down for the football game on Friday. You promised yourself you'd take responsibility for your actions once you'd gone away to college. It was a promise. Tomorrow would be the day you confronted Jungkook.

-

Friday came around like any other day, with the exception of the anxiety that seeing his face again gave you. You had already emailed Coach to see if you could come in and help with setting things up for volunteer hours, so you were going to be in early.

After brushing your teeth, you rehearse what you'd say in the mirror. "No, I don't need to come clean about shit!" That was a little too sassy. "I don't need to come clean...about shit!" That one was weird. "Jungkook, I don't need to come clean about shit." Bingo. Rinsing your mouth, you put your toothbrush back and spit.

Jungkook peeled back the wrapper on his granola bar and bit off a chunk. He sat in the middle of the field, taking a break before warmups. Today's a home game against an undefeated team, and it'll be the last game before winter break.

Last year, you would have been texting him good luck texts from your bedroom in exchange for his game day selfies with the boys. Jungkook opens up his camera, lays down on the grass and takes a photo anyways with a small smile on his face. Instead of texting you, he posts it on his Instagram.

"Alright boys, I'm gonna need you to listen up. Tonight's all about executing those strategies we've been working on," Coach glances down at his clipboard. "Joseph, your passes have been getting stronger. Great job. Michael, watch your ankles. Did you get the support sleeve I told you to?" He looks up.

"Yes sir," Michael shouts from behind.

Coach hesitates, lowering his clipboard and looking out at his team. He settles on Jungkook. "Lil' Nochu. You're our equipment manager for the night. You'll be helping out our volunteers." Jungkook blindly complies.

From the bleachers, you watch as the boys go over the strategy for the night. Beside you are the cheerleaders who are naturally giving you the stink eye, but you're used to that.

You're innocently munching on a snack when Jungkook appears in your peripheral vision, apparently walking towards you. You quietly put your snack away and face him. "I'm here for volunteer hours, don't get confused."

"Yeah, I know. I'm the equipment manager. Let's be adults about this." Jungkook holds his football helmet under his armpit, clearly bothered.

"Like you've ever been an adult about anything. You still wear iron man socks to bed," you snicker, causing the cheerleaders to giggle.

"They keep my feet warm," he snaps with conviction. "Get up, let's go."

-

Watching the both of you make your way to the equipment room, Ron snaps his head back around and yells to the rest of the team, "Operation Get Em is a Go!" Instantly, the group of men huddle together and begin an intense discussion.

"We should make her the waterboy," One teammate suggests. "No, we should bench Jungkook the whole game and make him sit next to her," another offers.

"We need to lock them in that supply room." Coach points his big, fat finger at a room about 50 yards from where they were standing.

"But Coach, they're headed in there right now," Ron says, concerned.

Coach smiles."Kid, get ready for the rush of your life." His careful eye counts down the seconds until the two of you enter the enclosure.

"Go."

Ron speeds past 10 yards, keeping his knees high. He dashes past 20, to the amazement of the linebackers who look on, diligently. He's gonna make it.

Jungkook is reaching for the Gatorade fountain when he hears a loud click. Alarmed, he darts towards the door and tugs hard on the handle. It's locked. "Open the door. Open the fucking door!" He bangs on it hard.

You know exactly what's happening. They've locked you in so that you'd have to sort everything out with this clown. What a lame gimmick. "Don't waste your energy, they won't let us out."

Jungkook's pants in an innocent panic. He's breathing quickly, his eyes filled with fear. He closes his mouth and takes in a big breath. He doesn't do well with closed spaces.

Your sneer transforms into a soft pout. "Hey, listen, it's gonna be okay, they're probably gonna let us out eventually…" You speak softly.

Jungkook leans his head back against the door and continues to breathe deeply. He pulls out the pendant his mom gave him on his 16th birthday and holds it in his palm and shudders. "Okay," he sighs.

"Do you want some goldfish?" You hand the baggie to him as a peace offering. He silently accepts it, crunching one of them in his mouth.

"They're good, right? I don't have time to make lunch anymore, so I have it between classes." You admit. Jungkook eyebrows knit together in worry.

"Meals are important, Y/N…" He trails, finally finding his words again.

"I know, I know they are…" You zip up your purse. "Time just keeps slipping away." A gentle smile defaults on your face as you keep your eyes fixated on his thumb rubbing his pendant.

"Did you think Laura was right about me?" Jungkook keeps his head forward while talking. "That I'm a coward, and that I'm obsessed with you?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"I think that you just missed the opportunity to tell me something, and by the time you realized it, I was gone, wasn't I?" You say, regretfully.

"What happened to us?" He lets go of his knees, flattening them across the tile. "It used to be so fun when you invited me over and Mom made dinner and we would watch the game together…What happened to that?" His bittersweet expression is nostalgic of the memories you shared prior to college.

"Turns out college is a little harder than I anticipated," you reply.

"So what's up with these guys you've been seeing?" Jungkook nods his head up.

"They're sweet."

"Yeah, I bet." He licks the inside of his cheek. "I bet."

The following moment of silence builds in a rather unprecedented way. The only sound is of your breathing and the faint noise of football practice happening outside.

"So why'd you tell them to stay away from me?" You manage, your heart in your throat.

Jungkook huffs, letting go of his necklace. Offended, he says: "Because, idiot, everyone knows you're mine, everyone but your dumbass understands that you're meant for me and you can't text me once?"

"Kookie…"

"I've loved you, I've loved you and I've never stopped since middle school and you think it's okay to just not...give a damn about me…shit hurts." He finishes.

"But that's not fair," you shake your head. "That's not fair at all. You don't get to tell me how I feel."

"Well, how do you feel, Y/N?" An epiphany of hope fills Jungkook's spirit. The following words would change your relationship permanently.

"I love you, too." As the words leave your mouth, a warmth illuminates your body. You're uplifted, still shaking from the sweetest of confessions.

He gets up from the ground and wraps his tattooed hand around your waist. The familiar gentleness of his touch comforts you to contrast the excitement that being in his arms brings you.

Your breathing bodies elope into one another, his forehead nuzzling yours as his fingers caress your back. Delicately, his lips plant a kiss upon you, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly.

His body is pressed against yours with your limbs tangled together in an intimate way, his musk flooding your senses.

"You smell good," you sigh, as Jungkook's mouth peppers kisses on your neck. You feel him smirk against your skin. "You…" you lose your train of thought.

Out of the blue, the door to the supply room flies open and there's Ron with a stupid look on his face. "Aw look at the love bugs~" he goads.

"Oh my GOD, RON!" Jungkook lifts himself from you. "I am going to whoop your ass so hard you're gonna be seeing little birdies above your head," he laughs. It feels so good to see him laugh like that again.

Jungkook stands at the door, offering you his hand. After carefully gather your things, you take it. "The game is starting," he says. "Come over later, okay? We still need to sort things out."

You nod timidly.

"Okay."

-

"Now remember, the only way to measure chocolate chips is with your heart," you say, pouring the dry ingredients into a bowl at his place.

"Got it," he says, grabbing the butter from the fridge to soften with his hands. He's already showered and put on more comfortable clothes. It's approximately midnight at Louisiana State's Baton Rouge campus.

You gently fold in the batter while Jungkook is on dish duty, the sound of clinking dishes behind you. You begin to hum a simple song.

"You never sing…" Jungkook laughs, delighted. He sets a plate down on the drying rack and swings over to what you're doing. "What're you singing, baby?"

What did he just call you?

"Baby?!" You put the spatula down on the counter and recline against his figure, your hands placed gingerly on his chest. Looking up at his lovely face, you swoon. "So now you're calling me baby, huh?"

"Hmm...yeah," he thrums, his nose nestling itself under your ear. With a careful tug, his form is flush against yours and you're melting at his touches on your skin. It's quiet and dim in the apartment, the only light seeping through the open living room window.

"You do know what this means, right? Mom was right," you mumble, faintly gasping as his mouth finds purchase in your neck. Jungkook's curiosity is peaked as his hands explore where his mouth can't reach.

"We don't have to leave the door open, Y/N." His eyes search your expression wildly. He finds deep arousal, a blushing lust painting your visage. From then on, his purpose was clear. He uses his arms to carry you towards the bed.

He's readjusting things and just looking at you, watching for places he could kiss and suck at because he's totally unfamiliar with touching you with the intention of fucking you, but there's nothing he wants more.

He leans back on the bed as you run your hands up his body, and he's hissing a little, a nervous smile on his face as they ride up his thighs, but once he gets semi-used to your intimate touch, he tugs your hands up towards his tenting length. It's warm, surprisingly.

"Fuck, now your hand is on my cock," he speaks as if he's in disbelief. You burn up.

The ecstasy of what you're about to do fills the both of you with a slightly dizzying feeling of pleasure.

His eyes are on your face even as your palm rubs his dick through his jeans and he's already so flush and shaky because he realizes your exact desire. He shudders.

You explore him in a burning curiosity, something mind numbing about having your best friend spread on your bed like this having admitted that for the entirety of four whole years, he's wanted to love you and make love to you--

He's scared he'll say the wrong thing, so he doesn't speak as he pulls your body on top of him and kisses you tenderly, pretending you're the most fragile thing in the world.

You're his baby...and to be his baby is to be in his arms, to be his baby is to bury yourself in his scent and lose yourself and you split your legs on either side of his length, and to be his baby is to watch as his speechless expression contorts into one of deep pleasure.

"That's...you," his thumb rolls over your clit, as your hand softly thumbs at the slit of his cock. you're smiling with your eyes shut, feeling the beat of both your hearts spiral.

You're devastatingly beautiful, so he wants all of you to feel good and he's very...very curious, curious enough to overcome the anxiety of firsts. His breath hitches.

Now your brain is going numb at the thought, you're grinding softly against one another until you position yourself against the tip of his head and buck up...and he hears the sound that escapes your lips. He tries to catch it in his mouth.

He gasps, your lips smacking in a tender kiss. "I had no idea you could sound like that, give me more…"

You put your fingers to his lips and he opens his mouth and releases them as his eyes, full of lust, meet yours...his breath shudders quietly and he knits his eyebrows, and you can't properly feel he's slipping into you until a dull, full feeling fills you and you roll into him.

He puts his forehead against yours, panting softly as his hands rest upon your backside."I've only wanted to be inside you, to feel how you were made just for this, just for me to love you…" Your hand closes around his heart, biting your lip as his cock finds your little bundle of nerves and kisses it with the tip. "I'm going to help you feel good, okay?"

You're weak. You're unbelievably weak as you submit yourself completely to the man spearing you. He's your complete strength, and all of you is now his. All you want is to feel his nirvana, you want to drown in it.

He's thrusting himself into you, gliding your hips against one another in heated ardor, you're consumed by the suffocating flames of a passion that's burned between the both of you for an eternity. He moves with grace as he grasps you just hard enough to keep plunging himself over and over into your cunt.

When his lips meet yours again you both fall apart. Your cunt is filled to the brim with his fucking cock. The overpowering scent of your bodies gushing against one another, the addictive feeling that the both of you chase in a frenzied fever, it consumes you. "So good, so good, so fucking good," He drones, snapping his pelvis fervently to meet your blooming cervix. "Ahh, fuck~ Jungkook, fuckk…" you reply, your hands on either side of his face.

His lips part and your entire body shakes from the sheer force of his stupefying pounding. You whine in desperation, infatuated with your best friend's sex. Nestling his head between your head and your shoulder, Jungkook marks you deliberately as he adopts a more lucrative rhythm.

"Shit," you hiss, your fingers weaving between his wavy strands. "Ahh~"

"Been wanting to make you feel this good, been wanting to be inside of you since the day I fucking saw you at prom." His hands cup your breasts, holding them as his fingers shape them carefully, drawing out a delicious, slurred moan from you. "Fucking angel."

Your body twitches wonderfully, your pussy stretched around him, squelching with a messy concoction of fluids. You tense, convulsing as your heart flutters wildly. He tugs your ear between his teeth encouragingly. You pant, gripping his back as he milks your orgasm, peppering a mess of kisses on your lips as his pace falters, a single hard thrust filling you with his cum.

"Oh my God," you breathe, your hands immediately intertwining with his. His chest rises and falls rapidly against the bed, his head is spinning beyond any comprehension of what just happened.

"I didn't know your tits looked like that," he pants. "I'm sorry if that's like... that's not what you say after having passionate sex. It's just, holy fuck, you're that pretty…"

You throw a pillow at him.

"Let me guess,"

"Doofus," you say in unison. He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

It's gonna be a long ass semester.

holy crap this is the cutest freakin thing I've read!!! )): I cant- I'm so overloaded with emotions wtf?? this was such a sweet read, Jimin is an absolute sweetheart and y/n finally admitting. SOOOOO cute, the ending?!!! ugh I love it.

-> The two of you have been at odds since the old days, back when you raced homemade cars on concrete sidewalks for lollypops. But those days are nothing compared to the big league, where you’re challenged by tragedy, injury, and unresolved feelings.

Pairings: racer!Jimin x racer!reader

Genre/au: angst, smut, fluff, racer!au, childhood enemies to friends to lovers, coming of age, minors dni please

Warnings/ [TW]: minor character death (OC’s mom passes away), grief, mentions of crippling epilepsy, mentions of violence (car crash) and injury/pain, hospital visit, nudity, explicit sexual content, competition sex (idk how to say it just read it?), low-key soft sex bc I’m soft, teasing, fingering, teasing, light nipple play, penetrative unprotected sex (buckle up kids), teasing, oc rides Jimin’s face, biting/marking/scratching, squirting, did I mention teasing? confessions mid sex which is always fun, Jimin is a massive sweetheart because I can’t write my bias any other way, and there’s like three time jumps whoops but it’s not confusing I swear

Wc: 21.3K

a/n: y'all can thank @jookiemonie for sending me this and inspiring this monster 😉 also disclaimer I know nothing about NASCAR okay I actually researched for this so y'all better at least give me feedback 👉👈

taglist: @staerryminimini​ @unicornbabylover​ @kookieswan​ @sugarflywme​  @mwitsmejk​ @dvalitaes​ @still-with-koo​ @kookiecrumb​ @jeonsjiddies​ @taeshobipop​ @jktones​ @myooniverse​ @writtenwhalien​ @miscelunaaa​ @hobipost @lookhere-2seok @purplebeebs @justanotherstarlightmonger @bbl32 @highly-functioning-mitochondria @syhh1310 @armys-dna @thesugatoyourtae @anqelkoo @missseoulite @jiminshiinekoya @ashslytheringoddess @jimilter @kofisips @generousrunawaylove @jmforevs 

Disney’s Cars taught you that red is unquestionably the fastest color, and since your car is red, there’s an unquestionable assurance you’ll win.

After several laps around your humble culdesac, your precious 1979 Chevrolet Corvette is undefeated and so is your confidence.

“Who wants to lose next?”

Park Jimin, arguably the most boisterous of all the third graders, waltzes across your driveway with a smug look strapped across his face.

You find this dangerously presumptuous considering he moved in next door over two weeks ago and hasn’t spoken a word to you yet. You noticed him in home room, which is the only reason you know his name at all and the fact that he exudes false humility.

It was last year, when all the boys started getting taller than you. All of sudden they just grew like trees, but you didn’t. It hurt your pride a little bit considering you were superior to them in every other sense. A part of you likes the fact that Jimin is at least an inch shorter than you. But it’s not enough to make you like like him.

“I wanna race.”

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yo idk how I missed this 🥴 but this is so cute omg. I love this lil family you created, and the ending was absolutely perfect!

congratulations ate nikki, for another amazing story ((:

daydream (myg) | twenty. (final)

⇢ series playlist ☽

⇢ masterlist ☽

summary: after losing his wife, all yoongi had was his 5 year old daughter, suki, and his mother-in-law by his side. he was sure he didn’t need anyone else, especially after many people near & dear to him doubted in his ability to take care of his daughter on his own. that is, until he met you— someone who unexpectedly came and changed his world for the better, bringing in new highs and lows to experience on this journey with suki.

pairing: nurse!reader x single dad!myg

genre: single dad au, strangers to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: none really - it feels like a filler ending chapter to me LOL but i also didnt wanna say/do too much because i do have some plans for these two!! kinda intentionally made it open-ended, i guess is what im trying to say! <33 this is also highly unedited and i wrote most of this while sick so pls excuse any errors!

note: we’ve made it to the end 🥺 thank you so much for loving this couple just as much as i do, and for giving it a home in your heart. 💞 promise i’ll be back with more for this couple (👀), but until then, i’ll be taking a short break to work on other fics behind the scenes until i’m ready to release. please also look out for my min yoongi fic & others that will be part of the titillating touches collab, releasing may 7th! take care everyone! ✨

>> ABOUT 1 YEAR LATER

You shuffle in the bed that you shared with Yoongi, dark grey duvet thickly covering your bodies as the sunlight hit the edges of the bed. It’s a sunny, winter morning, but the heat inside the room and the covers keeps you warm and cozy. Yoongi lays quietly behind you, chest rising with every breath he takes, arm loosely wrapped around your waist with his head tucked behind the back of yours. You love waking up to him, have always loved waking up to him all this time. It always felt like the first time, and you didn’t think you’d ever get over the feeling at this point.

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bro what the heck this was so freaking cute!!!!!!!!!!!

One of the Boys

One of the Boys Ship: Taehyung | Reader Description: ChildhoodFriends!AU | BestFriends!AU | Neighbors!AU | Highschool!AU | All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him? Warnings: Intercourse, Manhandling, Oral, Blowjob, Fingering, Flavored Condoms, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk with some Crack, Taehyung’s into Hickies, Fluff, Angst, Lots of Feminism talk Word Count: 20,240 A/N: Based on the song One of the Boys by Katy Perry!

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why was that so hot 🥴

the spins (explicit)

genre: smutttyyyyyy as hell (with like one angsty conversation about isolation as a trauma response, but said in much vaguer terms lol)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you discover a new side to your former lab partner, frat wonder boy jeon jungkook, when you confess to him the one thing no man has ever been able to make you do.

word count: 10.3k

contains: explicit sexual content AKA porn!!!!! alcohol, minor frat house shenanigans, reader is a total bitch but in a highkey relatable way, jungkook is The Only Good Frat Boy, mentions of shitty hookups/sexual dissatisfaction/faked orgasms, an **absurdly** lengthy and gratuitous cunnilingus scene, a lil bit of teasing/begging, spitting, LOUD sex, reader’s first partnered orgasms, also JK has a tongue piercing 👀

A/N: so writing this nearly killed me,,, lmao. i have two inspiration sources that i must credit- one is jai’s @gimmethatagustd INCREDIBLE fic paint me naked, which gave me the final shove i needed to topple over into JK hard stan land (listen he’s 3 years younger than me, i had a complex about it, it’s fine). seriously go give it a read and give her some love, i fully credit her with moving college!JK into my brain where he now lives rent-free.

the other source of inspiration is this insaaaaane imagine audio (WARNING, extremely NSFW and will literally ruin your life!!!!!) that hooked me on the idea that JK would be competitive about eating pussy and….. yep, smack those two things together and ta-da, this porn was born. godspeed and thanks as always for reading 💜

i’ll edit this to add the link once it’s up on AO3, but i thought i’d be nice and let tumblr have one first since y’all have been so welcoming to me :3c

~*~

You really don’t know why you came to this party. It’s so crowded, bodies pressed together, people screaming to be heard over the noise, or just because they’re white girl wasted. The music is terrible, the floor weirdly sticky, the container of jungle juice in the kitchen extremely suspicious. You opted for tequila instead, the last of which you now drain from the bottom of your red solo cup. The whole place smells like cheap beer, vape smoke, and frat boy cologne.

Yet another Jack Harlow song comes on over the bass-boosted speakers and you roll your eyes. That’s it. Time to go home and actually finish the psych paper you’re putting off.

You shove your way into the kitchen, trying to be the only upstanding citizen in this godforsaken frat house and actually put your trash in a trash can. You spot one in the corner– nearly overflowing, but still good enough, except that a whole circle of Brads and Chads block your path. You do your best to squeeze past them, but because they don’t do anything except live at the gym and snort protein powder, they might as well be a brick wall.

“Excuse me,” you try. Nothing.

“I need to get through,” you say with a gentle push. It’s like talking to a brick wall, too.

“Alright, fuck it.” You roll your eyes and decide to just fucking go for it. You’ve had enough liquor that you won’t feel the pain until tomorrow anyway.

The circle breaks apart in confusion, not a brain cell in sight, as you slam your way through. They part so quickly that your plan works too well, and the excess momentum shoots you forward. You stumble, losing your footing, already cringing because you’re about to faceplant on the nasty floor of this nasty frat house kitchen.

“Hey, whoa!” A voice way too close to your ear for comfort shouts, but then an arm snakes around your waist and saves you from your doom, gripping you tightly. “Careful!”

You glance up, wondering if this guy is going to try to turn the moment into some attempt at flirtation, the world’s worst meet cute, but then you see big round eyes staring back at you with legitimate concern. Oh, fuck. You know those Disney princess eyes. Your stomach drops.

“Whaaaaaaaat!” Holding you in one arm, an unopened 18-rack of beer hoisted up on his shoulder with the other, grinning like a kid in a candy store, is none other than frat wonder boy Jeon Jungkook.

Ah, shit. You knew he was in a frat, of course. He doesn’t shut up about it. But you didn’t know it was this one– well, actually, you don’t even know which frat house you’re in right now. Alpha Beta Omega? They’re all the same to you. You don’t really understand why they have factions anyway instead of all just living together, but that would probably be too gay.

“I didn’t know you partied!” Jungkook is still smiling a smile that takes up his whole face, clearly unable to believe that you’re standing here in his disgusting frat house kitchen in your leather jacket and your combat boots.

You huff a laugh as he slowly unloops his arm from around you, assessing to see if you’re stable enough to stay upright. You shoot him a look as if to say I’m fine, dumbass. Uncoordinated, not intoxicated. There’s a difference.

“I do not party,” you correct him. “Never once in my life have I partied. I merely come to the parties, stand on the edges and observe, get my free alcohol, and then depart. Like I’m doing right now.” You aim your solo cup at the trash can and miss by about a foot.

“You– hang on,” he pauses, turning back to offload the fresh case of beer onto the kitchen counter. There’s a clamor of excitement from the Brads and Chads as they crowd around to slap him on the back, shouting things like “okay, JK!” and “let’s fucking gooooo!”

You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, and then you watch Jungkook bring his tattooed hand up to rip the cardboard front of the case off effortlessly, and that is lowkey kind of hot.

Quiet, you tell your tequila brain. No lusting after frat boys. Not even the one you sat next to for an entire semester in bio lab, the one who was actually way smarter than anticipated and didn’t just use you for an easy A, who genuinely seemed like he cared about the way you answered “How was your weekend?” every time he asked, and who didn’t even say one problematic thing the whole semester.

Just because he’s the exemplary form of his species doesn’t make him not what he is, you remind yourself. Even the best frat boy is still a frat boy.

Jungkook returns as the rest of the bros swarm the counter and proceed to decimate the case of beer. That must have been the reason they were waiting here, at their proverbial watering hole, because they circle up and dissolve back into the party, several of them clapping Jungkook on the back again in thanks as they leave.

You realize he doesn’t have to yell to be heard anymore as he says, “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I have a paper to write.”

He scrunches up his face, knowing he can’t argue with academic excellence. “It’s still early. What if you just have one more drink, and then go? I haven’t even gotten to enjoy the party yet. The pledges severely underestimated how much alcohol it takes to run this place.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m so terribly sorry that your child servants who literally give you money in exchange for friendship got something wrong.”

The words feel biting as they leave your mouth, and you honestly expect him to protest, but he only shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right. The whole thing is stupid.” For a moment you wonder how on earth he’s immune, what it is about him that allows him to live in the cradle of toxic masculinity and still be so regular, so good.

“Will you stay?” He asks again. You try to purse your lips to hide your smile, but it doesn’t work, and then he’s smiling too.

“Fine.”

The kid literally fist pumps, and your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. He gestures broadly to the kitchen counters which are a veritable nightmare of liquor bottles and beer cans. “What’ll it be? Don’t say the jungle juice,” he warns with a laugh.

You look at him like he’s gone entirely insane. “I would never say the jungle juice. Tequila, please.”

Jungkook moves fluidly, as if he’s imitating those ridiculous Las Vegas bartenders who do tricks while they pour your obscenely overpriced drink. He shakes a solo cup off the stack and throws it up, spinning on his heels and catching it in his other hand, and you’re laughing again because he’s such a fucking dork.

He crosses to open the freezer and scoops up some ice in your cup, then pours a healthy amount of tequila in. “And mixer?” He looks back at you over his shoulder.

You pause. “Uh, just ice is good.”

He puts the bottle down and turns to squint at you in disbelief. “You drink straight tequila and you’re telling me you don’t party?”

You falter, a little flustered. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m drinking it for the taste, you know?”

“Can I show you what you’re missing out on?” He asks, and you don’t know why the question makes you swallow hard. “Seriously.” He picks the bottle of tequila back up, eyeing the brand with distaste. “This stuff is… not great.”

Your instinct is to joke about him slipping something in your drink, but you bite the words back– because first of all, not funny. But you also genuinely don’t think he would ever do something like that, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you do.

“Alright,” you say instead, lifting your hands in surrender.

He opens the fridge door and crouches down, digging around through what you can only imagine is a Costco-sized amount of egg cartons and packages of chicken breasts. Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls away with a carton that’s been Sharpie’d to death, “JK ONLY DO NOT DRINK” on all sides. It’s really every bro for himself out here, you think.

“Grapefruit okay?” Jungkook double-checks, and you give a shrug and a nod. He pours a little, inspects the cup, then adds a splash more. “It’s not too sweet.”

He passes the cup off to you and returns his juice to the fridge, shuts the door, then seems to realize he forgot to make himself a drink and repeats the entire process again, spinning in a full circle which has you hiding your giggle in the rim of your cup. Once he’s made himself a matching drink to yours, he leans against the counter and takes a sip, surveying you.

You mirror him– the drink is admittedly a lot better than straight bottom-shelf, and you like how the sour taste lingers on the back of your tongue.

“Thank you,” you remember to say after a few sips, and he waves it off as if to say it’s no big deal.

“So, why are you here? Observing us in our natural habitat?” He puts on a voice for the last part, in a clear imitation of you, and you smirk. It does sound like something you would say.

“I’m an agent of chaos,” you say and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for the real answer. You choose that moment to take a long swallow of your drink, buying time. He continues to wait patiently, so you finally just shrug and make a face. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to do my paper. I saw a thing for it on insta. And I was tired of rotting away in my dorm room.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I tried inviting you to stuff when we were lab partners.” You wonder if the tequila is making you imagine that he sounds a little hurt. “You never seemed into it.”

At that, you laugh, because he’s being kind. Jungkook did invite you regularly to whatever mixers or ragers his frat was planning, and every time you would tell him no, directly to his face, like the bitch that you are. You eventually started trying to come up with as many creative ways to phrase it as you could: no, nope, never, not in a million years, when hell freezes over. He took them all like a champ, and that was one of the first things you remember liking about him. A frat boy who can respect when someone says no and not try to push it– now that is a rarity.

You want to apologize, but you really have no explanation for what makes tonight any different, at least not one you can say eloquently. How do you tell him you’re fucking sick of staring at the walls, feeling like “the best years of your life” are passing you by and leaving you with nothing to show for it? That you’ve painted sarcasm and an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude over your life for so long that now it feels like you’re backed into a corner where you can’t give a shit about anybody because there’s nobody left to give a shit about? So you were neck deep in insta stories on a Friday night like a fucking loser, and you saw a stupid post about a stupid frat party by some girl you swore was going to be your bestie the first week of freshman year who you promptly never spoke to again, and something in you snapped and said, “fuck it”?

Oof, tequila coming in strong, you think to yourself. You decide to spare Jungkook the emotional word vomit.

He keeps going when you don’t respond. “I just figured you had better things to do. Like ride motorcycles, or be in a mosh pit.”

You roll your eyes. “Motorcycles are giant metal death traps. Hard pass. And I don’t like getting punched in the face by nazis, so I don’t mosh.” You take a sip of your drink and size him up. “You’re one to talk, little alt boy.”

He’s playing with his lip ring when you say it, and the blush that creeps up his neck is honestly cute. Thoroughly unfazed by your words, he rolls up the right sleeve of his eyesore of a button down until his arm is fully exposed. “Check it out! Finally filled in the shoulder piece.”

You step closer to admire the fresh ink. Jungkook’s sleeve is, admittedly, really fucking cool. You still remember the first time you saw it in bio lab. It was the first day where the temperature crept up to an actual tolerable degree after what felt like a winter that would never end. You’d only known him in hoodies up to that point, so when he rolled into class that day in a baggy t-shirt and you saw the hint of lettering and shading peeking out from under his sleeve, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“It’s rude to stare,” he’d said with a soft laugh and a cheeky-ass wink.

You wonder now if maybe you stepped too close, because you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He holds his arm up for you, rotating it to show off the whole thing. Throughout the rest of the semester, you’d watched as he slowly started to fill in the blank spaces, but now it’s even more cohesive; he’s nearly finished it in the time since you last got a good look.

“Just need something on my wrist. And I might do the back of my hand. I haven’t decided.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and flexes with a put-on grunt, and you laugh even as the swell of his bicep makes your heart jump in your chest.

Emboldened by how close you are to him, and also the tequila, you trace your finger along the words that wrap across his forearm– rather be dead than cool. “That one’s my favorite,” you say softly.

When you glance up, he’s already looking at you, and now your heart’s in your throat. “I swear this thing’s the only reason you like me,” he says, the non-pierced corner of his mouth crooking up in a barely-there smile.

You open your mouth to protest when the kitchen is suddenly alive with noise as a mass of bodies crash through the doorway. A girl in a minidress that has ridden dangerously far up her thighs is nearly carried in by two of her friends, with several more trailing in right at their heels, and her name must be Hannah because they all say it about a thousand times in six seconds. A couple of dudebros shuffle in behind them, shouting for everyone to step back and give her space.

Nowhere else to go, you’re forced that much closer to Jungkook as far too many people try to squeeze into the tiny kitchen. You’ve basically got him pinned against the counter, and you look away, then look back, extremely uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and he shakes his head like it’s not a big deal.

He does smell really good, you realize now that he’s this close. Not like he took a bath in Axe body spray or Drakkar Noir, as most of his frat bros do, just… warm and clean, with a hint of the good kind of boy musk, salt and skin. It’s a welcome distraction from the unbridled chaos of Hannah and her entourage.

“She’s gonna be sick,” someone warns, and you wince in preparation.

“Hannah, aim for the sink!” Another girl coaxes. You turn over your shoulder and watch as Hannah takes a few steps forward, legs quivering like a baby deer, then does a last-second pivot and vomits directly into the jungle juice.

“Oh, party foul!” One of the bros yells.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, and then Jungkook’s breath is ghosting over your neck and you can’t think about anything else. “Do you want to go to my room?” His voice is low, his lips inches from your ear.

You look up at him over the rim of your cup. “Yes, please.”

It’s only once you start walking that your mind is able to process what’s happening, and the panic sets in. Jeon Jungkook is guiding you through his packed frat house, his hand on the small of your back. Of course the crowds part for you like the fucking red sea, no throwing elbows required, because everybody loves him.

His bros greet him as he passes, “‘sup JK!”, and you try to avoid eye contact. You wonder how regularly they see this, him leading some wide-eyed girl up to his room to do what frat boys do best. Your stomach twists as you wonder what his expectations are, and what the fuck it is that you’ve just agreed to by saying yes.

You climb the stairs, his hand still pressed to your back, and he leads you to the first room on the left when you reach the top. When he opens the door and motions for you to step through, you’re surprised.

For one, it doesn’t reek of weed. It just smells like he does, but stronger, with a hint of fresh laundry. His bed isn’t made, but there are also no questionable stains on the black sheets, and he has four pillows and a bed frame, not just a mattress and box spring on the ground with one sad rectangle. There are some cups on the nightstand, but no ash tray overflowing with burnt out ends of blunts, no empty beer cans, and you can actually see the floor.

Not bad, you think to yourself, and then the anxiety presses in again as he shuts the door behind you. Nope. You are absolutely not doing this.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “These things get really crazy around finals season. I guess people need an escape in the form of mild alcohol poisoning.”

You cross your arms, unable to continue the polite conversation. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen in here, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”

He steps back, his brow instantly furrowing. “Wait, what? Are you mad at me right now? I just figured you’d want to get out of the kitchen, since a girl was actively puking.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you say, not buying it.

“I-I’m not.” Jungkook seems genuinely flustered, enough that you realize he’s probably not acting. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he starts, and then he sighs, like he’s correcting himself. “But, I guess my intentions really don’t matter, because it seems like I did. So I’m sorry.”

You squint at him, wondering who the fuck taught this boy how to apologize so damn well. This is the first time you’ve ever heard a frat boy say “sorry” without it being immediately followed by “but” and then something so offensive that it negates the entire thing.

He waits for you to respond, then gestures to the door. “If you want to go, you can go. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you at all since last semester, and I’m really glad you came out.”

The thought of going back downstairs is slightly more anxiety-inducing than staying in this room. At least here it’s quiet, and it smells nice, and he apparently is not actually trying to get into your pants. It really does seem like you read him wrong, you admit to yourself, and then you unceremoniously plop down on his carpet.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the big smile on his face as he joins you on the floor, and you both lean back against the foot of his bed. He slips his feet out of his slides and you lean forward to pull your boots off.

“Like I said, I’ve been rotting away in my dorm room,” you remind him with a dry laugh.

“You should’ve texted me. I would’ve come rot with you.”

His words make you smile a little, but you’re still suspicious. “Uh-huh,” you intone as he takes another sip of his drink. “And what would we have done, Jungkook?” The question nearly makes you cringe; it’s like reading a bad sext out loud. You don’t know why you keep pushing him on this.

Maybe, a tiny part of your tequila brain whispers to you, you’re goading him so hard into saying that he wants to hook up because for a split second back there in the kitchen, you realized that’s what you want. But you’re a hyper-independent bitch who can’t ever admit to needing anything from anybody, so you need him to say it first.

You grit your teeth and give your head a nearly imperceptible shake, trying to shut that brain cell up.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, like he really doesn’t. “Play video games?” He gestures to a Nintendo 64 in the corner of his room, hooked up to a large TV that’s mounted on the wall.

It’s certainly not the answer you expected, but you don’t hate it. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Well, I will kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

He sucks gently on his lip ring as he looks you over, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ve clearly tapped into something. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“Then prove it.”

Dropping out of shit-talk mode for a second, Jungkook gives a laugh that almost sounds embarrassed. “I should warn you, I get pretty competitive.”

You refuse to back down. “Better work on your gracious losing face, then.”

In acceptance of your challenge, you watch as he sorts through the bin of cartridges next to the console until he finds the one he’s looking for. He brings it up to his mouth and blows on it, some strange gamer ritual you’ve seen before but have never understood, and a shiver runs through you.

“Here,” he says, tossing you a dark blue controller, letting the cord unravel and plugging it into the port. “You can even use my favorite.” You take it in your hands and smile when you see the yellow Pokémon logo stamped across the center.

“You’re going to regret that when I beat you with it,” you retort, shrugging out of your jacket for optimum mobility. He’s grinning as he settles back next to you and the menu music starts up.

It turns out you’re pretty evenly matched in the Mario Kart skills department. You sail past him on the first course, easily finishing in first, but get entirely wrecked by a blue shell in course two and he’s able to clinch it no problem.

You would’ve expected more shit-talking based on his warning, but instead he’s just so focused, eyes wide, mouth wiggling his lip ring back and forth. It’s a little endearing. A lot endearing, really. You keep sneaking glances over at him as you start up the third and final course, wondering why he has to be so goddamn cute, why you’re incapable of finding a single flaw in him no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to focus, you return your attention back to the screen, only to see that he has flown right by you and is far ahead in the lead. Oh, this simply will not do, you think to yourself, and then an item box hands you a perfectly-timed golden mushroom, and you see your path to victory.

You drift around the sharp corners, giving yourself a speed boost each time, and it’s just enough. “Get fucked,” you say with a giggle as Princess Peach cruises her way past Bowser into first place. You use the last few seconds of your mushroom power to put a solid amount of distance between your characters. There’s less than half a lap left, and absolutely nothing he can do to deny you of your win.

Or so you think, until he reaches over and drags his hand across your controller, forcing your joystick in the opposite direction and causing Peach to start driving in circles on the screen.

“What the fuck!” You scream, trying to smack his hand away, but he closes one of your hands in his and forces that down on the joystick, making your car go fully backwards. “You fucking cheater!”

“You’re the cheater,” he grunts, which doesn’t even make any sense, but pisses you off enough to reach for his controller to mimic his strategy. However, you fail to account for his evolutionary advantage of having longer arms than you; he’s easily able to scoot away while keeping his hand pressed down on your own. You see in the game that he’s inches away from overtaking you now, the fingers of his other hand stretching to work joystick and button at once.

“No!” You cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle your hand free. You can’t just sit here and watch him steal this out from under you, so you dive hard to one side and yank the controller away at the same time.

It’s only a little too late that you realize you have once again made an uncoordinated lunge and ended up with far too much leftover momentum. He does not relent, and you underestimated the severity of his grip on your hand because when you fall over he comes with you, both of you toppling onto the carpet as the controller flies out of your grasp.

You end up flat on your back, and his reflexes are only barely fast enough to respond, his hands bracing the floor on either side of your head so he can avoid landing on top of you.

But that’s even worse, because now Jungkook is hovering over you, and you’re both breathing heavy, and his hair is falling in his eyes, and you don’t even know how but his thigh has managed to end up pressed between your legs.

For a moment, you don’t move or say anything, and neither does he. You just stay like that, staring at each other. Your eyes drop to his mouth, and then he cracks a smug grin.

“I told you I don’t like to lose.”

Your stomach flips as your panic rears back in full force, and you meet his gaze again. “Am I still supposed to believe you didn’t bring me up here to hook up?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.

The smile drops off his face as his eyes search yours. “What do you want?” He asks, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “Because you’re the one who keeps talking about it.”

You falter, unable to come up with any witty retort because you know he’s right. Jungkook moves away from you and you sit up with a sigh. He scoots back a few more inches, giving you plenty of space, and reaches for the remote to mute the TV.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, your voice still soft. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the carpet instead. “That’s just alcohol and adolescent sex drive talking. It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t sound mad, but confused, like he wants to understand your thought process. Good fucking luck, you think to yourself.

You give him a look. “Because I’m not an idiot. Hooking up with a frat boy in his frat house is never a good idea.”

The way his face falls makes you feel like the biggest bitch on planet earth, and you desperately wish you could shove the words back in your mouth, that you were capable of shutting up for once in your goddamn life.

“Is that really how you see me?”

Of course it’s not. You know it’s not, and you hope he knows it too, despite your inability to ever actually say what you fucking mean. But you can’t stop yourself. The defense mechanism is fully engaged now.

“Jungkook, you are literally a frat boy. We are literally in a frat house. This is not a perception character judgment thing. It’s an objective facts of reality thing.”

He fixes you in his gaze, saying nothing, then sighs. “Why do you do that?”

Your heart sinks. “Do what?”

He shakes his head, worrying at his lip ring again, clearly a nervous habit. “I don’t know, it’s like… Sometimes I think you like me, but then you always throw a wall up at the last second. I just wish I knew why.”

That makes two of us, you think bitterly, but your heart is simultaneously cracking apart at how vulnerable he’s being with no hesitation. You’re almost jealous that he can just move through life like this, open and honest, so unafraid.

“I do like you,” you admit, and you open your mouth to add the qualifier, to put the wall up, but he speaks first.

“I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time.” This kid is going to be the death of you. “I’m not just looking to score, or whatever."

You pull your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them, trying to shrink until you no longer exist. You start to shake your head. “Jungkook, I don’t–”

“See,” he cuts you off, “you’re doing it right now.” You groan and bury your face in your arms. “What is that? We like each other, why can’t that be enough?”

The question hangs heavy, because you know there’s no good answer.

Finally, you look up at him and sigh. “Because,” you start decisively. “You’re… you. And I’m me.” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re from different worlds.”

His face scrunches up a little, and it’s his turn to shake his head slowly. “I really don’t think we are. I think you’re just telling yourself that.” You can see he’s getting frustrated and you don’t fucking blame him. “And I don’t get how you can complain about sitting by yourself in your dorm room, but then keep blocking everyone out so that you’re always alone.”

“I like being alone!” The lie comes out reflexively before you can even think to stop it. You’ve said it so many times at this point that it almost feels true. “Alone is best.” You pause, and for a second you really wonder if you’re going to cry right now, on the floor of Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom, in his stupid frat house. “You can’t get hurt, or disappointed, or left behind if you’re alone,” you conclude. There it is. The truth, kind of.

“I wouldn’t do any of those things to you,” he says softly.

You just stare at him for a moment. The promise is too good to be true. It always is. “You can’t know that.”

He pauses, then nods once, staring back at you. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do those things. And I would try really hard not to. I just want to make you feel good. Whatever that looks like.”

You can’t help where your stupid tequila brain immediately takes the idea, and you let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, there’s really no chance.”

His brows pinch together, clearly not understanding. “What does that mean?”

“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stretching your legs back out. “I am a puzzle that no man can solve.”

The realization slowly dawns on him, and his eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a–”

You wave a hand in the air as if to shush him, and you cut him off. “Stop. Don’t be dramatic. I’ve had plenty of orgasms, courtesy of my vibrator and my showerhead.” Your face is a little hot from talking about this in front of him. “Just… only alone. The running theme here, apparently.”

He tilts his head, processing this new information. “So do you fake it?” You tell yourself you’re just imagining that he sounds a little upset.

You grimace. “With my high school boyfriend, yeah. He was my first everything, and we were so young. I was too embarrassed to say it, so I just let him believe he had a magical dick that brought me to orgasm at the exact same time as him every time.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh of disbelief.

“And after that,” you continue, looking down in embarrassment, “I don’t know, it’s pretty much just been hookups, and most usually don’t bother to ask. Some have tried for a while, and then given up…” The memories make you cringe. “It’s just uncomfortable. Hence the alone thing.” You give a half shrug. “It’s okay. My vibrator is nice.”

He says nothing, and you mentally kick yourself for oversharing. This is why the wall goes up, you think, but when you look at him, he’s already looking at you, and not in the way you expected.

In fact, you’re surprised to see that glint in his eyes again. He licks his lips, and you realize your pulse is racing.

“The way I see it,” he begins slowly, his voice low and even, “we have two options.” You raise an eyebrow, your interest piqued, and he continues. “Option one. You let me know, for real, that you’re not interested. You don’t have to tell me why, but you do have to mean it. And I’ll leave you alone, and you can go home and write your paper.”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to prepare for what might come next.

“Or, option two.” You swear his eyes darken as he says it. “You admit to me that you like me, and that you want me. And you let me take care of you. Which includes keeping you in my bed for as long as it takes me to make you come. I don’t care if it takes hours. I’ve got hours.”

He shrugs like he hasn’t just said the most devastating thing you’ve ever heard. “We can figure out the rest after. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. But it’s your call. I won’t be mad, whatever you choose. I just need to know.” He leans back on his hands, awaiting your choice.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is.” You try to say more, but he’s faster.

“Then say yes.”

You want to scream at him that it’s not that simple, that letting people all the way in is a door you slammed shut long ago, never to be opened again. But despite your best attempts, this cheeky, dorky, pierced and tattooed frat wonder boy has managed to wedge that door back open, just an inch. And it’s enough that now you can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it really can be that simple with him. Maybe safe doesn’t always have to mean alone. Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place?

You let out a slow exhale, and then for the first time in your life, you decide to get out of your own way.

“Okay,” you say, and you have to work to keep your voice from shaking. “Yes. But,” you quickly add before he has a chance to react, “I don’t want this to turn into a big thing if…” you trail off. “You know. If I can’t.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” He says with a self-assured smile, and you hate that it’s so hot. “I have a secret weapon.”

And then he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, and the end of a silver barbell winks at you.

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, you have a tongue piercing?!”

He smirks. “Got it a couple months ago. It’s fully healed now, so you get to be my maiden voyage.” You cringe and he laughs self-consciously. “Sorry, that sounded cooler in my head.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too as his hands reach for your ankles. He gently starts to pull you towards him and you cross your legs, scooting the rest of the way forward until your knees are touching his.

“Can I please kiss you now?” Jungkook asks, but you take his face in your hands and beat him to it.

Given his competitive streak, a part of you had expected everything about this to be rough and hard, but the way he kisses you is so gentle, it’s romantic. You’d forgotten what it’s like to be kissed like this, intimate and slow, not just a tongue shoved down your throat. Jungkook is continuing to prove to you what he already has time and time again: he is nothing like any man you’ve ever met.

You are really curious about that piercing, though, so you tilt your head and tentatively lick into his mouth. When you bump against the metal post he whines a little, and goddamn, you need to be in his bed right fucking now.

He must have the same thought because his hands run firmly over your hips and you both maneuver to your feet without breaking apart. You let him guide you backwards until your knees hit the end of the bed, and you sit down and gaze up at him, breathless from his kisses.

You’re a little nervous, you realize, but then you see the way he’s looking at you. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your face flushes.

Jungkook ducks his head to kiss you again, moving you to lay down, and his hand finds the small of your back beneath you. You can’t help but smile when he uses the arm wrapped around you to effortlessly lift you up and scoot you backwards to the head of the bed. You lean against the pillows as his tongue returns to your mouth.

His fingers start to play gently at the hem of your shirt as if asking a question. You nod and he pushes it up, your lips breaking apart only for as long as it takes to pull it over your head before finding each other again.

You reach to do the same for him, but he makes an “uh-uh” noise into your mouth, then pulls away. “I want this to be about you.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, that is incredibly sweet, and it can absolutely be about me. But I think you will severely hurt your chances of bringing me to orgasm if you’re wearing that creamsicle nightmare shirt while you’re doing it."

He raises his eyebrows for a split second like he’s weighing whether or not he should accept that challenge, but then he shrugs with a grin and pulls his shirt off over his head. His body is ridiculous, lithe and toned, and he inhales sharply when you run your hands up his chest.

You realize now, as he unhooks your bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed, then starts to kiss down your jaw, that Jungkook is vocal. He makes these breathy little sighs against your skin as he goes, and when you do something like scratch your nails over his back or dip your head to trace your tongue along his neck, he outright moans. The low, raw sound makes your pussy throb.

Noise during sex has always been weird for you; you felt like guys expected you to be loud, which is hard to do convincingly when you’re nowhere near satisfied. But none of the sounds he’s making now seem in any way performative. You can tell it’s just him enjoying your shared pleasure the same way he does everything– unashamedly.

So when he sucks gently at the place where your neck and shoulder meet, lightly running his piercing over the sensitive skin there, your eyes flutter closed, and you don’t hold back the noise he pulls out of you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, and you feel him smile.

You’re overwhelmed by all the different sensations his mouth can make against your skin. He kisses, licks, drags his tongue ring, and bites along your neck and your collarbones, working you until you couldn’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. His hands slide up your waist, coming to cup your breasts, and he tries similar experiments with his thumbs over your nipples: barely-there tapping, then firmer pressure in slow circles, then light pinches that make you gasp and writhe.

He’s clearly educating himself, paying close attention to your responses to figure out the best ways to touch you and take you apart. No one has ever cared this much about what actually felt good to you before; this is a far cry from the half-hearted two minutes of foreplay you’re accustomed to. He really does act like he’s got all the time in the world.

The thought of him touching and kissing you like this for hours is dizzying. Even if he can’t make you come, you don’t fucking care, everything he’s doing still feels incredible. It’s a hell of a lot better than writing a paper.

Jungkook groans into your skin as he mouths down to your breasts, and when he shifts, you can feel his erection grind against your thigh. The knowledge that he’s just as turned on by this as you are, paired with a deft flick of his piercing over your nipple, makes you whine loudly. Your core is already aching to be touched, licked, fucked– anything.

He reaches to unbutton your pants while his lips and tongue still work at the bud of your breast in his mouth. Your hips lift up at his touch and he pulls your jeans down, dropping your nipple from between his teeth so you can kick them the rest of the way off.

His hands slip under the band of your panties with a grunt so heady it’s nearly a growl, but instead of pulling them down, he loops the fabric around his fingers once and pulls up, so the lace is pressed tight against your dripping cunt. Even that small amount of friction makes you whimper, your hips rocking in desperate search of relief.

“Can I take these off?” He pairs the question with another firm tug, so the lace rubs right over your clit as your hips circle.

You don’t even have the breath to answer, you want it so bad; you can only nod.

He pulls your panties off, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor before moving down between your spread legs. You’re so wet for him now that just his breath on your core is enough to make you moan.

You brush his hair off his forehead and watch as he brings his mouth to your thighs, trailing lips and teeth upwards. With each pass, he comes so close to where you want him, where you need him, but deliberately stops just shy, teasing you. He runs his tongue along the crease where your hip and thigh meet, and the drag of his piercing on your skin makes you cry out, delirious with anticipation.

But then his mouth goes in the wrong direction. Rather than close the small amount of distance left to finally, finally make contact with your cunt, he shifts away from it. His lips and tongue trail back over your hips, your stomach, and up the valley between your breasts. You lift your head in disbelief to watch him, and you don’t think you’re going to make it– you’ve never been denied pleasure like this before. Your eyes start to sting like they might well up with tears.

He keeps going, lips moving from your neck to your jaw and then finally back to your mouth. You turn your head to the side, your breathing ragged.

“Jungkook,” you nearly sob, “please.”

His voice is hoarse when he murmurs in your ear with a dark laugh, “I was wondering how long it would take you to beg for it. You really held out on me.” He kisses you again and you whine in frustration as he sucks on your bottom lip. He pulls away with a smile. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

Your head swims; you try to form words through your desperation. “I– fuck, anything, anything. Please, Jungkook, please.” You sound so wrecked, so needy, but if he wants you to beg, you’ll do it, gladly. You’re going to die if he doesn’t touch you soon. Your hips shudder up against his, your nails dragging down his back.

“Good girl, love it when you say my name like that,” he groans into the crook of your neck, and your pussy clenches around nothing, your brain short-circuiting at the praise.

He doesn’t drag it out any longer– you don’t think you’d survive if he did– and instead just shifts to settle back between your legs. His hands come to your thighs and you’re so keyed up that you jump under his touch as he spreads you wide open. You’re nearly clawing at the bedsheets in preparation to finally feel him after so long, but instead of his fingers or his tongue, something wet hits your clit.

It takes a second for your brain to process that he spit on you. Fuck.

You look up to see him looking at you, wide-eyed, like he’s only just realized what he did. “Sorry, I should’ve asked first. Was that okay?”

It was fucking hot, actually, but you’re so far gone that you can’t make the words happen. You can only nod and roll your hips up toward him.

“Jungkook, please,” you manage to whimper one final time, and he dips his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against your skin, “I’ve got you.” And then he closes his lips around your clit.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, relief flooding through you like a shot in the arm. His movements aren’t that different from how he first kissed you, gentle and sweet, and your clit throbs when his lip ring rolls over it.

Jungkook’s mouth falls into a steady rhythm, and he’s groaning against your pussy like it feels good for him, too. Enthusiastic is the only way to describe the way he eats you out; you really do believe he could do this all day.

Alternating with the movement of his lips, he starts to incorporate long, slow licks of his tongue across your folds. There’s enough spit and slickness that his piercing slides right over your clit, and it’s a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before that has you bucking against his mouth. He whines mid-lick when you do, and the vibration rips through you, your back arching in response.

That earns you two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, and for the second time tonight, you think you might die. Your legs start to shake as his fingers curl inside you.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you groan. You don’t recognize your own voice; you’ve never made noise like this before, but nothing’s ever felt this good. You’re coming undone in his hands, under his tongue.

He changes up the rhythm on your clit, moving between fluidly swirling his piercing over it and pulling it into his mouth for hard suction. The pleasure is still overwhelming, but something about the switch-up takes you out of your body and into your head, and you falter for a moment.

He’s been at this for a while, and he does seem to be enjoying himself, but even so, you start to feel self-conscious. Are you taking too long? Is his tongue getting tired? What if you still can’t come from this?

Your momentary silence and lack of movement must be enough to send Jungkook’s competitive edge into overdrive, because he grabs your thigh with his free hand as if to pull you even closer and fully buries his face in your cunt.

He flattens his tongue against you and starts to shake his head aggressively, wiggling his tongue with it, and the barbell tapping rhythmically at your clit has you gasping for air and grabbing at the bedsheets.

As if that wasn’t enough, he adds a third finger inside you, slowing down for just a moment to make sure you’re accustomed to the stretch. He runs his free hand up your thigh and lays it flat below your stomach, pressing down firmly on your lower abdomen. You don’t know what to expect– no one’s ever done it to you before, but when he resumes rocking his fingers back and forth against your front wall under that extra pressure, you nearly drench his hand in arousal, it feels so good.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck!” You moan, and you wonder if the whole party downstairs can hear. You sound like a goddamn pornstar, the kind of noises that are so ridiculous you’d think they were fake if you weren’t experiencing the insane, all-encompassing pleasure yourself firsthand. Here, in Jungkook’s bed, in his fucking frat house, getting eaten out like you’re his last fucking meal.

You can’t even remember what you were worrying about now. There’s no space left in your brain for it, and your pussy is already starting to flutter around his fingers as you feel the pressure building in your core.

Out of sheer desperation, you wind a hand through his hair and lift your hips up against his mouth, matching his rhythm. He looks up at you and moans around your clit, nodding his head, clearly trying to encourage you without letting his tempo slow.

His breathing is ragged and loud as you grip his hair and rock your hips, bumping your clit against his pierced tongue again and again and again, exactly the way you need it.

Your moans increase in pitch and pace as you feel your orgasm crest. He responds back in time, encouraging you, his voice coming from some raw, primal place as he grunts open-mouthed, “uh-huh, uh-huh” against your clit, and you can hear his fingers working your cunt so well, and it’s all too fucking much.

You come so hard, it makes you question if you’ve ever actually had an orgasm before. Hands gripping at the sheets, toes curling, legs shaking violently, back arching up off the mattress, all with a loud moan that’s more like a sob. You have never in your life felt anything this good.

Jungkook slows but doesn’t stop as the aftershocks roll through you, slowly moving his head up and down to lick flat, long stripes over your clit as you continue to shudder against his face. Your thighs pull together reflexively when you become too sensitive, and that’s when he finally relents, pulling off and out of you.

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if you really did die after all. There’s a loud bang on the door, but you’re too blissed out to even give a fuck, and it’s just one of his frat bros yelling “alright, JK!” from the other side.

At least they’re supportive of a woman’s pleasure, you think, and then you can’t help but laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Jungkook slides up the bed to lay next to you, and he’s smiling as he wipes his face with his hand.

“I guess you didn’t fake that one, huh?”

You can only shake your head as you struggle to get your breath back.

“Holy shit, I feel like I should say thank you,” you eventually manage, and he laughs his perfect laugh. You roll over to bury your face in his shoulder. “What the fuck, Jungkook– I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. That was fucking crazy.”

Jungkook flips onto his side facing you, propped up on one arm, his other hand gently running back and forth along the curve of your waist. “What can I say? I play to win.” He can’t hide his satisfied smile as the official winner of your first ever non-solo orgasm.

You lean against him, allowing your eyes to close again as your pulse slows, and you sigh contentedly as he presses his lips to your hairline.

“What time is it?” He asks after a few minutes. “Do you need to go write your paper?”

You tilt back to shoot him a death glare. “Do not mention my fucking paper right now, Jeon Jungkook. I’m trying to bask in the glow here.”

He laughs again and pulls you closer. “My bad.”

“And besides,” your face softens, and your eyes trace down to his hand that’s now gently palming over the front of his pants, where you can see the bulge of his erection. “I believe you promised me hours.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’ll give you hours.”

Your pussy doesn’t feel anywhere near recovered, but you’re somehow also aching for him to fuck you. If that was only his head game, you genuinely don’t think you’ll survive sex with Jungkook. But you’re willing to die trying.

“Come here,” his voice returns to that near-growl and he crawls over you, one hand cupping your jaw as he brings his lips to yours.

This time when his thigh presses between your legs, it’s on purpose. Your clit still twitches at the contact, but the pressure is indirect enough that it only feels good, and you rock your hips slowly into him.

You’re desperate to see him, touch him, return the favor, and your hand slips between your bodies to grab him through his pants. You whine against his lips when you feel how thick he is in your hand, and you pull little gasps out of him as you slowly start to pump him over the fabric.

“Please fuck me, Jungkook,” you whisper when you break apart, begging for it the way you’ve learned he likes, your hand still working him.

He bites down hard on your neck with a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real.

You start to unbutton and push down his pants and then he flips onto his back to do the rest, shedding pants and boxers at the same time. You can’t help but giggle a little at his apparent urgency, pleased that he needs you just as bad, as he yanks his nightstand drawer out, retrieves a condom, and rips it open with his teeth.

But that urgency is gone once he’s hovering over you, cock teasing at your entrance, your knees bent and legs spread for him. It’s replaced by that same look in his eyes, those same gentle kisses, and arousal pooling in your belly at the realization that he really could do this for hours. But you need him now.

“Please,” you whisper one more time, and he groans against your throat as he pushes into you.

His pace is slow, hips rolling fluidly, and you’re still so sensitive that your walls flutter around him with each thrust. The thickness of his cock feels just as good as you thought it would. You moan loudly, arching back against the pillow, as his head drags over your sweet spot.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice ragged. He keeps rolling his hips, stroking so slow and deep that it’s pleasure and torture all in one. 

Jungkook must be a fast learner, because when he thrusts into you one more time and you whine in response, the same strangled noise you made when he teased your cunt, he knows what you need. You don’t even have to beg for it.

His hands slide along the backs of your thighs and he pushes, just a little, folding your legs up so your pelvis tilts to give him full access to your cunt. And then he picks up the pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming as he bottoms out inside you over and over, and you’re already close to the edge of a second climax. You rake your nails down his back and his hips move even faster, both of you moaning with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin is so loud it’s obscene; there’s no way the whole party doesn’t know what you’re up to by now.

You don’t give a shit. You hope they’re all jealous.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure in your core builds, and you’re suddenly in dire need of release all over again. You move to reach a hand down between your legs, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a thing.

He lets go of one of your thighs to knock your hand away, replacing it with his own, his thrusts never slowing. You watch this time as he spits on your clit again, and then starts to rub circles over it.

It’s a touch you’ve felt before, fast and hard, usually performed by a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, and usually painful as all hell.

But Jungkook is very obviously a fucking expert in his field, and he must know that when you’re as slick as you are from his mouth and your own arousal, and you’ve already come once, and you’re this insanely turned on and desperate for it, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your hips lift up off the bed because right now, it’s fucking perfect.

“Oh my fucking god, Jungkook, fuck, yes, don’t stop–” you cry out, and your last moan is nearly a scream as you come all the way undone for him. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his length, and he only has to rut into you a few more times before he’s coming, too, with a loud groan of your name.

His head drops onto your shoulder as he finishes, gasping for breath. You lean back against the pillows, still shuddering a little but entirely spent, fucked out of your mind.

You’re only vaguely aware of what’s happening when he pulls out of you, or when the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom, then collapses back down next to you with a dazed sigh.

You roll into him, still lost for words, and he wraps both arms around you. You can hear his heart thudding hard in his chest, the same tempo as yours.

A laugh rips through you as you play the last few moments back and remember his hand shoving your own away. You look up at him. “So what are you, in charge of my orgasms now? Did I sign a contract tonight?”

“No,” he gives a small smile, and you see a blush creep up his neck at the reminder of something done clearly in the heat of the moment. “I don’t know. No one had ever made you come once before, so… I just wanted to do it twice. Set a new number to beat.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the grin on your face. “I’m not a video game, Jungkook.”

“Nope,” he laughs, tightening his grip around you. “You are so much better.” He ducks down to kiss you gently.

You’re still smiling when he moves to rest his chin on your head. “And you are better than my vibrator.”

There’s a comfortable pause, and then you decide you may as well do what you do best and ruin everything. “So, is now the time when I ask you the phrase that every frat boy dreads to hear?” You start, and he’s already looking at you when you glance up again. “What are we?”

He shrugs, looking totally nonplussed. “That’s up to you. I will literally go out there right now and announce to the entire party that you’re my girlfriend and I’m the first man to ever make you come, if that’s what you want.”

You press your face to his chest and laugh self-consciously. “Well, I think they already know about the second part. I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

His lips brush against your temple. “Don’t be. I want them all to know who’s fucking you right.”

You sigh, wondering how on earth this kid is real. There’s a big part of you, especially with the high of two orgasms rattling around in your brain, that wants to take the leap right now, straight into the unknown. You want to trust him fully, but you’re still scared of the uncertainty, the potential for disaster. It’s been a long time since you let someone all the way in.

“But the G word…” you say nervously. “That’s a lot for me, at least right now.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, and when you meet his gaze, the look on his face betrays no hurt feelings or hidden agenda. It makes you feel like it really is okay. “We can be whatever you want,” he continues. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You can feel yourself getting emotional, and you bring your cheek to his chest again, hoping he can’t tell. “Well, whatever label we put on it, you are eating me out like that at least once a week.”

“Once a week?” He huffs softly. “How about once a day?” He shifts slightly to trail kisses along your neck. “Actually,” he murmurs in your ear, “I could go for seconds right now…”

You laugh and shove against his chest. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this brave new world over here. If you make me come again tonight I think I might literally die in your bed.” He relents with a smug smile and a kiss pressed to your cheek.

“But if you wanted to wake me up that way tomorrow…” you offer, and he gets that goddamn look in his eyes, the one that may forever be known as the look that ruined your life.

“Oh, I think we can make that happen.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺

love ring | pjm drabble

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's time to fight for love

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boxer!jimin x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut, a little bit of angst, boxer au

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, purple haired!jimin (yes this needs a warning), slight dirty talk, oral sex (f.), biting kink, breast play, praising kink, mentions of degrading kink, unprotected sex, mirror sex, public sex, multiple orgasms, jealous!jimin

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k+

a/n: commissioned 

“Dude, just go talk to her.”

Jimin has never found his friend more annoying than in this very moment. What he thought was a subtle glaring your way turned out to be not so subtle after all, since his friend has obviously noticed it. In times like this, he regrets sharing some parts of his life with him. He obviously doesn't know everything, but he's also not stupid not to see something has happened between Jimin and you. 

The distance and ignorance is big enough of a clue and actually, Jimin can't be mad at him for noticing it.

But it's the least of his worries now, especially if he sees you standing next to him. Chatting like you've got no worries, still hanging around when you know Jimin is going to be here today. It's a little selfish and he realizes that. You used to hang out around here because of your friends. One of them actually dated Jungkook, one of his boxing partners until their relationship didn't last too long. That's how the two of you met and eventually, started something that people call friends with benefits these days.

Friends, Jimin wants to laugh bitterly at the irritating word. Yes, you were friends but things got more complicated. Just like in all those movies and books people watch and read, someone is always there to warn one of them of the obvious. But with Jimin's lifestyle and the lack of time for a relationship, he thought the relationship the two of you had was just ideal. 

And he hates to admit how badly you've gotten inside of his head. 

“You keep glaring at her and Taehyun across the whole room.” Minseok rolls his eyes and Jimin catches just the right timing, glaring at his friend instead. 

Jimin wants to argue. To tell him that Taehyun has been waiting for any chance to get you to talk to him. The kid is obviously interested in you and there were times when you would just laugh him off. Tell him that Taehyun is just a sweet guy who's nice. Sweet guy my ass, he thinks. You're just fucking clueless when it comes to this stuff obviously.

“Mind your own business.” Jimin clicks his tongue, motioning for Minseok to finish wrapping his hands so he can blow some steam off. But with your presence here, he's not sure if he can even focus.

He hates to admit how he fights back the urge to glance your way again. Are you even aware of it? His pride wants to completely ignore you, shut your presence off and act as if you're not here. But there's something stronger and he finds himself hoping to make things right with you. However the last time you spoke, the argument was pretty bad and a small part of him dies in a hope to properly talk to you. 

Both of you have said some nasty things to each other. One of them led to just completely ignoring each other off. None of you reached out to the other. 

“I don't know why you don't tell her you like her.” Minseok rolls his eyes again, causing Jimin's head to snap in his direction as his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow.

He snatches his wrapped hand away from him, massaging his knuckles as he takes the boxer gloves and throws a nasty glare across his shoulder. 

“What do you know about that?” He tries to snicker, quickly averting his gaze away.

Jimin has never been a person to share private things with others, well there might be one person. But she's currently unavailable apparently. So he feels a little embarrassed that Minseok, who doesn't know too many details but enough to not get lost, sees right through him. It has something to do with pride as well. He doesn't let people get too close – not even his friends. Except for one person.

“Come on, it's obvious!” Minseok exclaims a little too loud, catching some prying eyes.

“Keep your voice down.” Jimin warns him through clenched teeth. 

“You're gonna lose her if you don't tell her. What exactly is your plan? To keep fucking her? We both know that's not enough.”

One of the common stereotypes people have about boxers is that every one of them has to have anger issues. Or either can't control themselves or love to fight. But boxing is more than that. You know all about it because you often had deep conversations with him about this specific topic. You could always tell how much boxing means to Jimin. 

He doesn't have anger issues, though it's a great way to get some steam off or distract himself whenever it's needed. But god help him, he tries really bad to not strike at Minseok. His hands clench in the boxing gloves. 

“Fuck off.” he says simply and sternly, ending the conversation here as he gets into the ring.

“Jimin-ah!” 

Jimin turns and is met with a familiar wide and bunny smile. 

“Gonna do some sparring with me?” he asks, already getting into the ring with his boxing gloves. “Everyone's too afraid.” 

Jimin lifts the corner of his lips, “Luckily for you, I'm not afraid of you at all.”

“Yeah? You should be,” Jungkook says teasingly, both of them getting into the right position. “Bring it on, Park.”

“Oh, I will.” he promises.

Zoning out everything around him, he focuses on Jungkook's movements and skills. He will deal with you later.

You knew coming here won't be a good idea. You knew he's going to be here and you will suffer, seeing him again but this time in the distance. Not wanting to admit it to anyone else, you miss him. Fuck, you fucking miss him. 

It feels weird to be back here, not having him around or seeing his teasing smile and wink he would always send your direction. You miss watching him training or doing actual fights. You miss being his number one fan and feel proud every time he's finished, and you're the first person he searches for.

Oh fuck, you feel like crying and you've barely been here for an hour. The moment your eyes spotted his beautiful purple-pinkish hair, you wanted to run into his arms. To smell his incredible scent again. To kiss those big lips of his.

With his current hair color, he's like a big sign you just can't ignore. What was a bet he lost to some of his friends turned out to make him distinctive. But you love it. As much as you loved his black hair, he looks mesmerizing in the soft bright color and he definitely pulled it off. You love it. 

And you wonder if you're ever going to see him again and his hair will be a different color. Not that you would mind. He looks amazing in any color you've seen him in so far. You just want to be a part of it. Be there and ask him what made him change it. It sounds pathetic. But your heart is yearning for him, and you're not sure if that's easy or even possible. 

Taehyun has been making you company ever since you arrived, your friends abandoning you shortly after they saw you talking to him to admire shirtless men. You can't blame them. The room full of testosterone is like a spell to some women. Seeing them flashing off their muscles and abs while playing one of the hottest sports – in conclusion, it's hot and you're not mad at them. But your eyes are reserved for one person only – and he's been ignoring you. He surely knows about your presence.

“I can't help but notice,” Taehyun starts carefully, eyeing you sideways as you try to block out Jimin's laugh. 

He's currently sparring with Jungkook. That much you noticed while trying to steal a glance. You have no idea why you keep torturing yourself like this. You should've stayed home. Your friends wanted you to come anyways and your stupid self missed Jimin that you didn't need any convincing. Actually, you're sure one of your friends told you it's okay if you don't want to go. But you being stubborn and too desperate to at least see him, declined her offer of going elsewhere. 

“Are you and Jimin okay?” 

As much as you and Jimin tried to be private about the thing you had going on, you weren't exactly secretive with the extra affection. You and Jimin have been friends. Always talked and messed around. But surely people noticed you had something going on. Or maybe it was your chemistry, as some of Jimin's and your friends have pointed out. You didn't care back then. 

All you could focus on was you and him. 

But now, you wish nobody would know. You've noticed the glances some of the men gave you – mostly the ones who are aware of your and Jimin's closeness. Though they don't know any details, they're not stupid to not know there's something intimate going on between you and one of their best fighters. 

“Why would you ask me that?” you ask, eyes widened as you meet Taehyun's shocked expression that soon turns to be apologetic. 

“I'm sorry,” he blurts out an apology immediately. “I just noticed you guys didn't even look at each other which is very rare and you, um well, you seem sad. Fuck, sorry. It's none of my business. I'm just worried about you.”

“I'm fine.” you answer curtly.

Taehyun is a sweet guy. He really is and has always been super friendly. He doesn't want to get into your pants like Jimin always initiates. Taehyun is one of the youngest fighters here and Jimin is like an idol to him. He admires him and aspires to be a great fighter like Jimin is. You know this because he told you.

Taehyun could be considered as your friend. He would often make you company whenever Jimin was training or was too busy. Which you completely understood – Jimin being busy – you just wanted to watch him and obviously, his attention can't be fully on you at all times. Jimin boxing has been the reason why you met him. It's also been a huge part of your… relationship and friendship.

“Sorry.” Taehyun offers softly, regret fully laced in his tone as you can't help but glance in the ring's direction where you know Jimin is. 

You find him and Jungkook stopping, taking a short break to drink some water. 

One of the girls that hangs around and usually helps with little stuff, hands Jimin his bottle. It's a simple act and in a way, you understand her little too long stare at Jimin's face and abs. But something in you cracks and you find yourself to be even more irritated and angrier, especially when he looks at her down from the ring and shoots her a grin. You watch the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes and your teeth clench. And then she steps into the ring, staying behind the ropes though as she has the audacity to tap his forehead with a white towel. 

“Oh, shit.”

Taehyun's silent reaction doesn't help. For a second you're mad, ready to leave this place and then the next, something snaps inside you and you share a look with Taehyun. Though his face starts to get blurry and once more, he curses under his breath. 

Before you know it, you're enveloped in a big hug. It feels comforting and you find yourself not moving. From a distance, nobody can tell you started crying. Your tears fell down but no more comes. It looks like you're just casually hugging and no one really shoots a glance your way. As far as you can tell anyway. 

In the distance, you hear Jungkook call out Jimin's name and it causes you to pull away from Taehyun's warm and comforting hug.

Jimin's glare isn't hard to notice and it makes your stomach drop. He has never looked so cold at you. It makes it painful to swallow and you gulp. But the glare barely lasts a second as he slips under the ropes, taking off his gloves in a heated manner before he tosses them on the ground. Your jaw is ready to fall to the floor as he stomps toward you, hands still in the hand wraps. 

“Shit, is he about to beat me up?” Taehyun asks hurriedly, almost shitting his pants. You can't blame him, Jimin looks scary as fuck – among other things you wish not to reveal.

You're too shocked to react, until you realize he's just a few steps away from you so you meet him halfway. 

He's not even looking at you, glaring at Taehyun from across your figure where he is standing, watching Jimin with wide eyes. If it weren't for your hands on his sweaty and exposed chest, you're sure nothing would stop him.

His skin is hot, something it always is but this time he's burning up from the activity he just did. You get distracted for a second and you have to remind yourself, touching him after your argument is not your priority right now. It does feel bittersweet though. 

Jimin's gaze finally drops on your hands before they look straight into your eyes. His eyes soften and he searches your face, as if he's looking for any change. But you're not different. Maybe sleep deprived but nothing your concealer and make-up can't cover up. You tried your best to look good – not for him but for you as well.

And Jimin wants to curse you out for wearing the sweet summer dress. The piece of cloth looks so innocent but you look absolutely stunning. Your breasts almost spill out of the tight and low cut. The outfit is not supposed to be hot or provocative, yet you look like a goddess and Jimin knows most of the guys must've sneaked a glance or two your way. 

Meanwhile he's not possessive at all, he tends to get a little jealous. But back then he didn't mind it much because you were his. Everybody knew that. 

Were you though? 

“What are you doing, Jimin?” you ask softly, Jimin feeling his heartbeat picking up its pace from finally hearing your voice.

“What were you doing?” he asks, glancing behind you, glaring at Taehyun again you guess. 

You look around, noticing the curious eyes set on you which make you break out of your trance. Hesitantly, you slide your hands off his chest and the movement causes him to look back at you. Shifting on your spot rather uncomfortably under all the prying eyes, you nibble on your bottom lip before mustering the courage to look up at him. 

“Can we talk? Somewhere private?” you ask silently, eyes dancing over the people curiously watching you which pushes Jimin to follow your line of vision.

His brows immediately scrunch, glaring at everyone and as he's getting riled up and about to curse them out publicly, they all look away in a second and chattering begins as everyone goes back to their previous activity. 

Jimin glances down at you once again, whole face softening up as he grabs you by your wrist. “Come on.” he mutters and starts leading you to the back.

The locker room, you recognize the way immediately. It's the only place where you will have privacy at the moment. 

You act as if you and Jimin were fighting for god knows how long. In reality, it's been like two weeks but those two weeks feel like an eternity. You haven't been in this locker room for that exact time. It's here where you fought after Jimin had a late night training. It was just the two of you. 

The whole argument started as something stupid and it escalated to this massive argument, ending with you walking away and Jimin frustratedly letting you.

“So? You and Taehyun now?” Jimin fills the silence right after the sound of door closing reaches your ears. 

“Don't do that,” you frown, turning to properly look at him. “You have no right to act like this.” 

He scoffs, reaching for a fresh towel as he wipes his face and chest again. He tosses it at the laundry bin in the corner of the room. 

“I have no right to anything apparently.” 

“You don't get to act jealous.”

Jimin clenches his jaw, keeping his head low but he still sends you glare your way. 

“Right,” he nods, “Because we are nothing. We are just strangers.” 

“That's not what I meant and you know it.” 

“No, actually I don't.” he snaps, wanting to say something more but catches himself and takes a deep breath instead. 

A beat of silence follows, the painful silence as you're far enough to not hear anyone else. You tongue your cheek, glancing around to prevent yourself from simply watching Jimin who successfully ignores you and doesn't look your way. 

The tall mirrors across the entire side of the wall shows how desperate you really are. All you ever wanted was more. But that wasn't part of your deal. This was fun and it started to get more serious. 

Jimin loves fun. He enjoys the thrill you both experienced. He told you himself one time after you had sex. It's been so craved in your mind ever since then. 

“Why does Taehyun even matter?” you ask, slapping your hands against your sides as Jimin finally looks at you, the frown on his face visible as soon as you bring up Taehyun. 

“If you're planning to date guys from this gym, do it outside.” he says bitterly and you stare in disbelief. 

What's his problem? 

“You have no right to prohibit me from that.” you remind him stubbornly. 

That's not the point you want to make at the moment, but you still need to inform him. Who does he think he is?

“Not like that's happening anyways. Me and Taehyun are just friends.”

Jimin scoffs once again, shaking his head in disbelief as he lets a bitter laugh while he rubs his forehead. “Yeah, right. The moment me and you–” he pauses, clearing his throat right after. “You suddenly hug.”

“A hug doesn't mean dating.” you point out. 

“You never hugged him before.”

“And you never let the girl wipe off your sweat before.” you snap right back, widening your eyes right after it escapes your disobedient mouth.

“Jieun?”

“Whatever her name is.” you snap and Jimin's lips suddenly twitch a little. 

“She is no one,” he mutters, “Compared to T–”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim frustratedly. “You're so dumb! Taehyun is my friend. He adores you and he would never do that to you! Not even if I asked him to!”

You are trying to prove a point once again but Jimin only takes what he wants. So his response shouldn't surprise you but you can't help but be left speechless. 

“Oh, so you would want him?”

“No!” you almost cry out frustratedly. “I just want to be loved!” you exclaim, clasping your mouth shut as Jimin stares with big eyes.

Oh fuck, he looks so innocent. And fucking hot. With his hair damp from the sweat, a strand of hair almost falling into his eyes as he effortlessly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“This is stupid. Why did I want to talk? This is just like the argument we had before.” 

You can't do this. Embarrassed that you just confessed your desire, you want to walk away and never come back. No matter how painful that's going to be. 

It's not the desire itself that makes you embarrassed though. It's the fact that you want to be loved by Jimin and no one else.

“No, don't walk away please.” he says, catching you by your wrist as he holds you tight while you show your frustration by trying to get out of his grip. 

You may be overreacting a little, but that's what you always do when things get rough. Trying to leave. At least it feels like that when it happens with Jimin. And it's only because you're scared of what you truly feel inside. Jimin is just not the type for this. He told you many times before and you can't let yourself be heartbroken when he reminds you of it again. 

In other situations, you have no problem talking things over. It feels a little tricky with Jimin though.

“Loved?” he questions and you groan.

Though you're not making it any easier for Jimin, he still holds you gently enough for it not to hurt. He's caring and as his big soft eyes stare at you, you feel like crying all over again. God, you like him so much. You're fucked. 

“Fucking stupid, right?” you scoff. 

“Why would it be stupid?” Jimin cocks his head to the side confusingly. 

“Oh, come on, Jimin.” you roll your eyes, snatching your hand from his grip as he looks alarmed but you don't dare to move. “You're the one who said you're not up for relationships. You don't have time for it. So what if I want it right now? What if I don't want just to be fucked?” 

Jimin opens his mouth. 

“And we were doing exactly that. So why can't I talk to Taehyun?” 

You're frustrated, starting to babble a little nonsense because there's no need to bring up Taehyun. That's only going to rile Jimin up all over again. 

“Don't.” he warns. 

“Why has the thought of me and Taehyun has always been such a problem? I mean yes, we were fucking. I wouldn't want you to fuck anyone else. But you're acting as if I can't–”

“Stop.”

“What? Why?” you provoke him why tilting your head, trying to act clueless and innocent. “We are not together, Jimin. I get why you would get a little jealous. But storming in our direction because of what? Because he simply hugged me? You have no ri–”

“I fucking like you.” Jimin spits out, cutting you off so easily that it feels like a slap to your face. 

It's the words that leave you breathless and you have to blink a few times to make sure it's real. He said what? You stare at him, seeing his face frustrated as he rubs his forehead. He's clenching his jaw, looking around while his breathing quickens up. And you just stand there and stare like an idiot. 

“Like me?” you whisper and Jimin chuckles a little heartlessly. “Jimin, you said–”

“I know what I said about relationships,” he cuts you off. “Is that so hard to believe that I could like you?” 

“I…” you trail off, still too shocked to form a proper sentence. “It is. You never–I never got that feeling from you. You always said how much you like our relationship and what it is.”

“Yes, that I can trust you, always talk to you. I didn't–obviously I didn't share everything that's been on my mind.”

“Since when?”

“A long time.” he whispers, looking right into your eyes while your breath hitches.

To be honest, you're not sure what to think. You want to believe him and you would never judge him for his own history and the lack of interest in anything remotely close to love or relationships. You do believe people could change but this feels like the cliché scenario that happens with men like Jimin. And by that you mean them willing to try it but not being able to stay in a relationship when things get rough. Quite frankly, you're not even sure if Jimin is ready to be in a relationship.

Sure, you and him get along pretty well (minus what happened between you two recently). In your mind, you've imagined the two of you together – together – so many times. Can he even love you? 

It's just something that's hard to believe. And you want to believe it. But something just wants you to protect your heart. You don't want to get any more hurt than you already did. For fuck sake! You got into an argument and you've been sobbing into your pillow every night. You can't possibly imagine going through something even more heartbreaking. You're way too deep in this shit.

But at the same time, you're pretty aware that you don't know unless you try. And it doesn't feel fair to Jimin at all. 

“Why are you looking at me that way?” he questions you, frowning as he sees the lack of trust you have on your face. “You don't believe me?”

He sounds hurt and so fragile all of a sudden. You feel like a major asshole even more now. 

“Listen,” he starts, refusing to no longer stay silent. “I fucking like you.”

“Taehyun likes me too and he's my fr–”

“Don't you dare to say his name right now.” Jimin cups your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks but not painfully. 

You stare into his eyes that darken, the little shadow there causing you to gulp. His already sharp and visible jawline clenches once again. You know you shouldn't find him extremely sexy right now, but your body acts automatically and you let your eyes drop down to his lips. You flicker them back on but you know he caught you. 

His mouth twitches and he slowly, painfully for you, licks his lips. 

“Are you getting turned on right now?” 

The mocking behind his tone should annoy you but you don't find yourself to be annoyed. The sex with him has always been great, one of the reasons why it lasted so long between you and him. But it wasn't everything. You appreciated every minute you got to spend some time with him. Sex or no sex – each time was special to you.

Jimin doesn't torture you by questioning the obvious, a recognition flickering in those beautiful eyes of his while his thumbs caress your soft cheekbones.

“I'm gonna show you how much I like you.”

The single word sounds mocking almost and the way he emphasizes, like there's something much more than him simply liking you. And you know he doesn't say it but you see he's hiding something. He's not telling the truth and you can only hope he's reciprocating what you've been feeling for him for the longest time. 

But perhaps now, it's time to act upon your feelings.

Jimin stays true to his words and doesn't waste any time finally tasting your lips. You can't help but hum into the needy and rough kiss. He doesn't pull away any time soon, kissing you with all the passion you've been missing and the familiar ecstasy clouds your senses. All you can feel is him and you wouldn't have it any other way. There are still a few things you both need to talk about but for now, you just want to be close to him again. For now, you need to feel him and touch him.

It's mind-blowing how at peace you are the moment Jimin has kissed you. The kiss is nothing but rushed, needy and rough with no intention just ending there. You know it. You've had many of those and it always led to one thing. And you're completely fine with it. 

Hands on Jimin's wrist, you get a proper hold on him as soon as he starts backing you, doing it all without breaking off the kiss. He bites your lower lip, sucks it and even pushes his tongue into your mouth. You welcome it all, almost whining when you're forced to break off the kiss as he gently pushes you to sit down on the long bench.

Jimin drops to his knees before you can needily reach toward him. He watches your entire form for a moment, licking his lips again before he attacks your neck. He sucks and bites your skin there for a few seconds, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy as you push your body into his. 

You're just as needy, wanting to be touched – only by him because he knows your needs and body like the back of his hand.  

He pushes down your summer dress under your breasts, exposing your chest to the chilly air in the locker room. The thought of someone coming here and finding you like this, with your breasts fully exposed, crosses your mind but Jimin utterly averts your attention as soon as his mouth clasps around your nipple. 

“Oh fuck.” you moan, the other hand fondling your other breast.

“You like that?” Jimin says, hot breath fanning over your wet and sensitive nipple before he goes back to his previous activity. 

At the beginning of your “relationship” Jimin would use his mouth in other ways than to just bring you pleasure with it by using it. The dirty talk was one of the things that could make you wet in seconds, he always knew what to say. 

Throughout the months of getting to know you intimately, he figured out you're just as freaky and needy as him. One of the things he always did was to call you his little slut. But that has changed. You're not sure when it changed exactly but from his slut you became his pretty and good girl – and fuck – that was even more dangerous to you than any degrading thing he could've said. That had you going and Jimin obviously figured it out.

It's stupid and it shouldn't mean this much to you, but his following words want to make you praise him for simply not forgetting. 

Not forgetting to praise you yet again. 

“Such pretty tits,” Jimin mutters, licking your other breast while you do your best not to move your hips against the bench. “I missed them.”

Not giving you time to digest his words fully, he's on his knees once against and this time pulls you closer to him. You catch yourself just in the right now as he gently pushes down on your chest, making you lay down. 

The bench is in no way a comfortable place to do this, especially if your head hangs off. But once again, you don't voice it because the second Jimin pushes your underwear to the side and clasps his skilful mouth onto your glistening cunt, none of it matters. 

He's everywhere down there. Licking and sucking your clit, then eating you out like a starved man with one hand squeezing your breast. You can't hold yourself up and the pleasure he's giving you causes you to lay down, even with your head thrown back. 

“Look at yourself,” Jimin suddenly says from between your thighs, the top of his purple head catching your eyes for a second before you close them again. “Look how fucking pretty you are.”

And you open your eyes, ignoring the blood rushing to your head as you gasp at the sight. You see yourself, face full of pleasure and mouth gasping as Jimin picks up the intensity and pace. You're long gone, every little thing edging you closer to the orgasm until you're cumming on his tongue.

But no. 

He is not done with you. 

Jimin rushes (but still remains gentle despite the rush and neediness in his motions) and turns you around. The bench is even more uncomfortable under your knees than it was under your bum, but you barely acknowledge it when Jimin pulls down his training boxers and exposes himself to your hungry eyes. 

Fuck, you've missed this too. 

You salivate like a hungry dog, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror. Your eyes meet and he shoots you a smirk. You're so focused on that (and already totally fucked out) that you don't notice the movements between his legs. That's until you feel the head of his cock touching your wet hole. 

“Ah, fuck, baby.” you moan, Jimin chuckling before he enters you. 

He's gentle at first, praising you for how good you feel and how much he missed your tight cunt (his words). All of it makes you already clench around him. So you beg him to fuck you, desperation evident in your raspy voice. And boy, does he listen. 

He fucks into you his thick and long length, urging you to look at yourself whenever you close your eyes shut from the indescribable pleasure. You do look. You watch him fucking you in the reflection, beds of sweat collecting on yours and his skin. He's biting into his lower lip harshly, grunting each time he thrusts into you while your high moans echo against the walls. 

It's messy and so wet between your legs, you swear you feel your wetness traveling down your thigh. You're so close. Telling even Jimin that. And he smiles proudly, admitting he's not far away from that either. 

And then he hoists you up, presses your back to his chest while still being inside you. And your eyes meet again in the reflection. His thrusts turn more gentle, still setting up a good pace that makes you see stars. But the way he rolls his hips into you and the intensity not only behind his movements but his eyes as well, you just know. 

So you smile through the pleasure, silently telling him with your eyes that yes, you know. 

“Mine.” he grunts, one hand around your waist holding you in place, while the other pinches your nipple. 

He rubs it softly shortly after while your fingers dig into his arm that's still around your waist. You squeeze him harder, moaning out his name before you confess; “Mine.”

“Fucking yours.” he spits out through the grunts and then it completely rushes down onto you. 

You're cumming, body shaking against Jimin as pleasure controls your body. A few more thrusts and Jimin cums too, spilling his load into you with a low yet long groan. Even after the orgasm, he holds you tightly against him and you stay like that for god knows how long. It's until you whimper at your knees that Jimin helps you to sit down. He silently cleans you up with another fresh towel before the piece of cloth joins the other towel he used before. 

He kisses you and helps you to cover yourself while he does the same. 

“Does this… does this mean–”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Jimin cuts you off, grinning at you like a mischievous teenboy as you pause for a second in pure shock before you chuckle. 

“I thought you would never ask.” you reply stupidly.

“It took me too long, I know. I guess I was too scared. Minseok has been patronizing me–”

“Oh my god!” you suddenly gasp, making him stop as Jimin sits next to you and stares at you in concern. 

“They all must have heard us!” 

Jimin cackles at how scandalized you look, with your palm covering your mouth and all. 

“That's the least of my concerns, to be honest.”

You nudge him in the shoulder as you look horrified. Jimin teases you, taking your hand into his as he peaks from the locker room. Everything seems silent and you walk into the main room finding it oddly empty. 

“Where is everyone?” you ask in confusion. 

Not that you're not happy! There is a chance nobody heard you. Not that you mind it that much, you just don't want people to be up your and Jimin's business. Like they haven't been nosy enough. 

Jimin walks up to his training bag, the only item sitting on top of a similar bench he just fucked you on. Pulling out his phone, you see him checking it with a slight frown on his face before he hands you the device. He ushers you to read it with a tilt of his hand, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth. 

Minseok: “kicked everyone out, you owe me. and I hope it was worth it and you finally grew some balls to tell her you love her. if not, i'm gonna kick you in the ass next time.” 

You hand him the phone back with a similar smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“He's right.” Jimin comments, tossing the phone back to his bag. 

“About?” 

“Everything,” he says simply while you're trying not to freak out about the L word.

It was Minseok who said it. Surely he must've known Jimin likes you, that's what Jimin wanted to tell you back in the locker room before you interrupted him. But these guys don't really think about these words, not as much as women do and it must've been a mistake–

“Especially that I love you.”

Jimin laughs the moment he waits for your reaction and he finally gets to see it. You look like a bucket of ice has been thrown on you.

You shake yourself out of the daze, trying to keep your posture while your heart is ready to burst out of your chest. But Jimin doesn't look nervous, he's beaming at you with the prettiest smile you've known ever since you got to know him. This moment right here is everything you've dreamed of ever since you found out about your deeper connection and feelings toward him.

So you take a deep and calm breath, the next following words spilling out of your mouth effortlessly. 

“I love you too.”

It feels like both of you are teenagers, giggling to yourselves while ending your confession with a few strong kisses full of love. 

“Now that everyone is gone. We could take a shower. Then I'm going to take you to my place.” he tells you once he pulls away from the kiss. 

Your arms around his neck and his staying on top of your ass, you grin at him. 

“And then what?” 

“I'm gonna cook you a nice dinner. I want to cuddle you and talk to you because I fucking missed you.”

“Hm, is that all?” you ask teasingly. 

“Is that not enough?” he teases back. 

“Surely it is.” 

“And maybe I will fuck my girlfriend again.”

“Lucky her,” you muse, “What an explicit word though.”

“I can make love to her too. Never done that before but I'm confident I can do it.” he continues and you press your lips not to giggle. 

“I trust you.”

And then you burst into the cutest fit of giggles. If somebody saw you right now, they would find the image of the serious and wonderful boxer Jimin giggling like a teenager hilarious. Little do you know they will witness it for sure, now that you're his girlfriend and all. 

Jimin is going to show his new side not only to you, but to everyone else.

The Little Mermaid || pjm ( m )

Summary: Jimin has only ever had eyes for one mermaid and you soon learn that what the prince wants, he gets.

Genre: fairytale!au, mermaid!reader, smut, fluff, angst

Length: 10.1k

A/N: wowee, i put my literal heart and soul into this,, and did it with a very basic plan and dissertations due during this week,, i absolutely loved writing this because mermaids so i hope you love it too and please support me,,!

Warning(s): explicit sexual themes (characters are of age), dirty talk, creampie,, oral ( male and female receiving ), fingering, virgin reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, 69, riding, he cums on her face, it’s still kinda dorky

There were few things that caught the imagination of the fae quite as much as the mer.

A race of creatures who had the top half of a human but the tail of a fish and from what some of the Royals had seen in meetings, whereof a similar intelligence to the fae.

But with limited contact through trade alliances where the fishermen would find the agreed amount of kelp or fish in baskets on the docks before they could see the mer who left them, the mer continued to be a mysterious race.

This was how the rumours began; promises of immortality at the cost of eating the flesh of a mer and that their faces were hideously scaled and fish-like resulting in their elusive nature stemming from embarrassment.

And that was the way it would have stayed, if not for your curiosity.

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into the wilderness | pjm

summary: alright, so last summer’s camp was… disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.

{camp counselor!au, unrequited love!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: park jimin x female reader genre: angst, fluff, comedy word count: 27k warnings: unrequited love, camp shenanigans, awkwardness, secondhand embarrassment/hurt, ot7 cameos a/n: hello and welcome to the one thing that guyi has wanted to write for literal years now but never go around to! finally i can cross camp counselor au off my list. anyway, it’s been over a year since i wrote for jimin so i hope that this monster 27k fic can make up for that !!! i swear the ending is happy. i swear. i promise.

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Seven Seas

; Atlantis Taehyung x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Word Count: 25.5k

; Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (receiving)

; Synopsis: Atlantis is a myth; a hidden city, a sunken island, a missing continent. Only…it’s not a myth. Just hidden out of choice. As the daughter of an Atlantean and a human, you are a halfling that is unwanted by the underwater continent and misunderstood by the surface. But what happens when you finally go to Atlantis and meet an Atlantean who is oddly kind to you?

; A/N: I swear this fic almost broke me like 3 days. I really hope you like it and that it’s not bad. Please make sure to like and reblog, and leave me comments or asks so I can see what you think! I’d really love the feedback!

Also, her speech is supposed to sound more stilted when she’s speaking Atlantean to reflect that she’s not fluent in it!

-

Throughout history there have been stories of hidden cities, islands and continents that have been told by many civilisations across the world. From Camelot to El Dorado, Shambhala to Zerzura, these mythical cities have captured the imaginations of millions of humans. All fascinated with the idea that there is something still to be discovered on Earth.

But when someone mentions the idea of a ‘hidden’ or ‘lost’ city, it is undoubtedly Atlantis that springs to mind for many people. Some believe it to still be hidden somewhere, whereas others believe it to have sunk millennia ago. Others believe it is a myth entirely.

Atlantis is very much a real place however, it is just that humanity thought too small. For it is not a city, nor is it an island. It is a kingdom and a continent that stretches the entire length of the Atlantic Ocean; from the North Pole to Antarctica. If Atlantis were above the surface, it would comfortably be the largest continent on the planet.

The people of Atlantis were not like humans either, even though they walked and talked like them. To a human, they would be almost indistinguishable. It has undoubtedly helped them to hide throughout the centuries, though not well enough to prevent any rumours of a hidden city.

You know that well, given that your own father is an Atlantean and your mother is a human. She had grown up in the little seaside town you called home, with a fisherman for a father. The sea had been in her blood, but not nearly as much as it was in the blood of the handsome man who had shown up on her shore on her 23rd birthday.

Claiming to be a traveller from a foreign land who wanted to experience life in the sleepy town of Sunset Cove, he paid your mother to stay in the spare room of her tiny cottage. After a few months of boarding with her, he slowly opened up and told her wild stories of an advanced civilisation living under the waves of the very sea she loved so dearly.

The stories slowly brought them together until their mutual attraction could no longer be denied. A whole year after he had appeared on her shore, she had fallen pregnant and eight months later they had welcomed a tiny, healthy girl into the world; you.

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you ain’t my boyfriend | jjk smau

— summary: your ex-fuckbuddy jungkook hates the idea of you with someone else but he seems to be even more annoyed at the fact that you’ve been spending way too much time with his team captain, who just so happens to be your best friend.

pairing: basketball player!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, slow burn, social media au, college au, ex friends with benefits to lovers au (+written chapters)

warnings: love triangle, some eunwoo x reader, swearing, angst, toxic relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, stupid decisions, pining, mostly fluff & crack

status: complete !!

note: this is my first ever smau, so pls bear with me <3 but i’m very excited to share what i’ve planned for this story with you all !!

PROFILES:

y/n’s besties | jk’s besties | cameos

prologue

one: not ur business

two: costume party

three: unblock me

four: you’re crazy

↳ bonus: party

five: i want you (written)

six: babe?

seven: last chance

eight: the truth

nine: new roommate

ten: friends don’t kiss

eleven: my girl

twelve: i’m very single

thirteen: pancakes

fourteen: purple lilies (written)

fifteen: lonely night

sixteen: girls day

seventeen: bikini shopping

eighteen: we’re good

nineteen: confessions (written)

twenty: master bedroom

twenty one: my princess

twenty two: best behavior

twenty three: better man (written)

↳ bonus: jeju trip

twenty four: finally mine

twenty five: comfort you

twenty six: see-through pjs

twenty seven: besties for life

twenty eight: good girl

twenty nine: busan

thirty: baby koo

epilogue

copyright © 2022, doublebunnykoo on tumblr. please do not repost my work!

Her | First Heartbreak

(now)husband!jungkook, tattooartist!jungkook, BF2L, fluff, smut, angst

Word Count - 6.6k

You want to give Jungkook what he's always wanted. Warnings: swearing, lots and lots of fluff as always, mentions of sex, heavy angst, infertility issues & a spousal argument

MINISERIES COLLECTION

You’re two years into a blissful marriage with your best friend, the one guy you ‘didn’t see like that’ until one day the only thing he became was exactly that. The love of your life, the sneaky bastard had been right under your nose your whole life and finally – finally, you’re his. And he’s yours.

Things with Jungkook are effortless, exceedingly so. Always have been, and you pray to every higher power that they always will be. You love him with your whole heart, every fibre of your being misses him when he’s not around. And judging by the constant buzzing from your phone, all the missed texts and calls, he feels the exact same way.

It's a Saturday morning and you’re teaching your favourite class at the dance school you own. Baby ballet. A dozen tiny toddlers drowning in tutus three times their size are your company for the next hour, and truthfully you wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not that you’re broody, you just really like teaching this class. At least that’s what you try and convince yourself when a smile creeps onto your face, watching the young girls stomp about with purpose.

Divas in the making, you’re sure.

The class is for ages two to five years, parents drop off their daughters and trust you to take good care of them all while teaching them the very basics of ballet. At their age it’s mostly about balance and coordination, but even you have to admit a couple of them already show a promising future in dance. It makes you almost nostalgic, seeing their chubby little faces light up when you clap excitedly and praise their hard work.

That used to be you, in a room just like this one. Laminated flooring and mirrored walls leaving no room for mistakes. You used to wear the cute pastel coloured leotards and tutus too, whereas these days you teach in a simple black leotard and a sheer wrap skirt of the same colour. Swapping out your painful pointe shoes you used to tour with for simple soft-soles. Just like your teacher used to wear.

You’re watching the girls behind you in the mirror, noting their technique and wondering how you could help them improve when a full-circle moment comes crashing down on you.

Mina, one of the older toddlers of the group, takes a heavy tumble to the ground after losing balance. Her features immediately drop with disappointment and sadness, especially when one of the other girls laughs at her mistake.

“Mina? Are you okay sweetie?” You turn to face her, panicking when you watch tears cascade down those perfect rounded cheeks of hers. “Mina are you hurt?”

“N-no…” The five year old sniffles, begrudgingly picking herself up from the ground. “I’m fine Miss…”

They’re children. You can’t scream at children. You exhale, trying not to lose your patience when at least five of Mina’s ‘friends’ all begin to point and laugh at her. Once upon a time that was you, around the same age as her too. The memory plays clear as day in your mind, how the other girls snickered and made bitchy little remarks about your technique. Well, about as bitchy as toddlers can get.

But with that memory comes a flashback of what happened next. You recall the way you dragged your feet across the sports hall building, sobbing, until you were inside the Taekwondo practise room. Six year old Jungkook knew there was something wrong immediately, rushing over to you with those big, round, sparkly doe-eyes that look the same to this day. Whether he’s aware of it or not, what he said to you that day left an impact on your life and personality. It was the birth of the ‘fuck it’ attitude you’ve developed over the years.

‘Everybody falls over once in a while, it’s no big deal.’ His signature bunny smile was adorable even then.

“Mina, can you come here please?” Your voice is gentle and kind, mirroring the expression you wear when you reach a palm out to her.

Reluctantly, she makes her way across to you with pink cheeks. You don’t know much about Mina’s personal life giving that you’re only her ballet teacher. But you do know that for whatever reason she lacks a maternal figure, her father, Hoseok, is a single dad and raises her on his own.

Hoseok is what can only be described as the perfect father. He’s never late to pick Mina up from class, in fact, he arrives ten minutes before class is due to end and sits to watch her practise with a proud smile that lights up the room. Always bringing her snacks to enjoy in the car ride home. Never misses a show. Consistently supportive of his number one.

You hope that Jungkook will be that kind of father one day.

“Are you sure you’re okay honey?” You kneel in front of a very upset Mina, who’s messily wiping away her tears with the back of her teeny tiny hand. “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, swallowing, “I-I’m fine…” Her tone is less than convincing, especially when her eyes scan the room and register there are still girls laughing at her.

“Everybody falls over once in a while, it’s no big deal.” You can’t catch the smile that tugs your lips in time, reminiscing your own experience with your now husband, “As long as you’re not hurt.”

“I’m embarrassed.” She huffs between little sobs and your womb has never felt emptier.

“Don’t be honey, it happens. You can dance up front with me, okay?”

Another nod, “Okay Miss…”

“Okay everybody settle down!” You’re loud, eyes burning holes into the other girls that have upset your favourite student. Is it immoral to have a favourite student? You don’t care. Mina is your favourite regardless. “Can we all apologise to Mina for laughing please? That wasn’t very nice of you girls.”

Immediately there’s a chorus of baby voices behind you, their faces panicked and scared in the mirror, “Sorry…”

Yeah, thought so.

“Okay lets go over this one last—”

There’s a low wolf whistle paired with the sound of the wooden doors being barged open that cuts you off, “Helloooo Mrs Jeon!”  

In the mirror your stare finds the newcomer, rather newcomers instantly. Hoseok gives a small wave at his daughter in the mirror, her face immediately brightening upon seeing him. They resemble each other so much. From their glossy black hair to their identical heart-shaped lips, there’s no denying Mina is her father’s double. He’s carrying a little pink princess rucksack on his shoulder, holding an unopened juice-box in his other hand when he takes a seat at the back of the dance studio quietly.

The polar opposite to the man beside him, the one who just wolf-whistled at you in front of twelve toddlers. Of course it’s your loud, overbearing husband who’s joined him.

Jungkook reads the room pretty quickly, defensively raising his palms and mouthing ‘sorry’ at you with an awkward toothy grin. You’re 99% certain he had a full day appointment booked in for today. You vaguely remember him telling you all about some body builder who wanted his entire arm tattooing in one sitting, despite your husband advising him against it. Maybe you got the dates mixed up, because by some turn of events Jungkook is in your class waving at you and clearly not at his tattoo studio.

You offer Jungkook a polite smile before returning to work, prompting the girls to go through the simple routine you’ve showed them one final time. As to be expected Hoseok’s eyes are trained to his daughter, sparkling with pride and a love so deep even you almost get lost to it. He adores that girl so much, it’s enough to make any woman sigh contently with a small smile.

You really hope Jungkook will be that kind of father one day.

It’s no secret that your husband wants babies. Seven to be exact. It’s all he talks about, wondering when you’ll finally give into his insistent nagging. He’s wanted to be a dad for as long as you can remember, he even has names picked out and everything. Much to your amusement. It’s comforting that he’s not rushed you into making such a life-changing decision, despite knowing how badly he longs to have his own children. You’re grateful for that, you’re grateful for everything Jungkook has given you. His time, his patience, his unwavering love and affection.

And the way he's hyping up the baby ballerinas from the back of the studio does something funny to your tummy. Your empty tummy. He's talking to Hoseok, completely immersed in watching little Mina get lost to the craft she'll no doubt perfect when she's older. His features are stretched with astonishment, eagerly nodding along with whatever Hoseok is saying.

Maybe you are ready to make that man a father.

The music fades and you’re forced to come back down to earth, having being daydreaming about what kind of mischief a tiny version of you and Kook would get up to. You turn to your students with a wide grin, clapping excitedly.

“Well done everybody!” You beam, “You all did great today! Good job!” Your eyes land on Hoseok again, this time he’s making his way over to Mina with big, bouncy steps.

“Meen!!!! You did great!!!” He shouts, swooping her up in his arms.

“Hoseok…” You smile again as you approach the pair, lowering your voice, “Mina fell down today, she said she’s not hurt but of course I just wanted to let you know.”

“Oh no, Meen are you okay?” He coos with a pout, his daughter simply nodding in response with a whispered ‘yep’. “Thanks for letting me know Y/N, oh you didn’t tell me your husband was a tattoo artist! He seems like a cool guy.”

At this you chuckle, gaze landing on Jungkook who’s already grinning at you, “Ahh… Yes, he is a tattoo artist.” You confirm, blood rushing to your cheeks when you notice some of the dance moms ogling him as they arrive for scheduled pickup. One woman even goes as far as introducing herself to him, but as always when Jungkook meets a new woman – he shakes her hand with his left one. A not-so-subtle way to flaunt his shiny wedding ring.

“Don’t call him cool though please, I’ll never hear the end of it.” You sigh, suppressing a fit of giggles at the pure panic settling onto your husband’s features when all the dance moms flock through the double doors. Gunning for him.

“Is that your husband Miss?” Mina’s looking at Jungkook as though she’s seen a ghost, features wide and round with shock. It’s so cute you think you could burst. “I didn’t know you had a husband.”

You offer her a warm smile, nodding, reminding yourself that having a favourite student is fine but maybe you should be less obvious about it in front of the other parents. “Yes Mina that’s my husband.”

“Really?” Her nose crinkles, curious.

“Mhm.” You hum with pride, eyes flickering to said husband who’s still beating off single moms, even the happily married moms, with a tattooed hand and his wedding ring.

“Okay well we’ve got a dentist appointment to get to Meen, so we’ll see you next week Y/N!” Hoseok’s smile is as bright as ever, replicated in the tiny mini-me he holds.

“See you both next week, well done you did really well today Mina!” You wave them off, saying a few polite hellos and goodbyes to the parents who come and go. Until you’re standing in the dance studio alone, well, almost.

“Not that I’m complaining but why are you here? I thought you had an all-day client today?” You hum with a grin while walking over to Jungkook who looks like an out-of-breath zebra having just escaped a pack of wild lions. Bless his soul.

At this he nods, standing until you’re being pulled into a warm hug, “Right. Well the guy pussied out as soon as I got to the elbow ditch, seized up like a teenage boner and wanted to reschedule.” He chuckles mostly to himself, kissing your forehead. “He was even leaking like a teenage boner. Tears though obviously, I wasn’t looking at his cock—”

“Do you have to be so vulgar?” You snort, snaking your arms round his taught body.

“Depends,” You can hear the smirk tugging his lips without needing to look up at him, “Are you excepting anybody else in here today? Cause if we have the place to ourselves…” His words get lost against your lips when he tips your chin to his, kissing you.

He tastes like home. He smells like home. He feels like home. Jungkook is your home.

“Nuh-uh,” You pull away from him with a child-like grin, “Not happening in here.”

“Come on…” He whispers, reattaching his lips to the skin of your neck in a series of dainty kisses, “Why let all these mirrors to waste?”

Your body begins to betray you as his mouth starts to feel really good against your flesh, you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut. That's when you clear your throat, “You know…”

Jungkook registers the change to your tone immediately, peeling his face away from your neck to watch you curiously. His eyes are sparkling with adoration and a genuine love that’s so pure it's indescribable, a single brow quirking in confusion.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to say something serious and kill the mood?” He laughs, wetting his lips with an anxious smile. “I’m kidding, are you okay?”

“Mhm…” You nod along. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned having this conversation but truthfully you can’t get Mina and her perfect chubby cheeks out your mind. You remember Jungkook as a child, he too had cheeks equally as puffy and adorable. The idea of creating a mini-him doesn’t absolutely terrify you anymore, and so you throw your arms over his shoulder and look him dead in the eye.

“Hoseok’s daughter Mina is super cute, isn’t she?” You hum, trying to gauge his reaction, “Do not repeat this but I think she’s my favourite.”

“Okay…?” It’s as though you can see the dusty cogs in your husband’s brain grinding against each other, a feeble attempt to figure out where you’re going with this. “She is really cute, I remember when you used to stomp around like that in tutus too.” He’s chuckling, gaze flickering over your features. “So what do you wanna do today? Since we’ve both finished work and apparently having sex in here isn’t an option.” He’s fully laughing now, playfully tutting at the fact you refuse to taint your work space like that.

“I have an idea…” You’re bursting at the seams with equal parts nerves and excitement, “Why don’t we make a Mina?” Biting your lip to suppress a giant smile you watch Jungkook’s mouth fall open, bewildered.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He cocks his head to the left, the hold he has on your waist suddenly tightening. “Because… You know that… Okay-, really? I-, wait what? I need you to be a little more specific, just so I know I’m hearing this right…” He’s tripping over his own tongue like a bumbling idiot, usual doe-eyes narrow and uncertain.

“Well-,” You dumb down your train of thought so that a neanderthal himself would understand, “What if we… Had our own baby?”

Jungkook’s white teeth are fully bared in a Cheshire cat like grin, spreading from ear to ear. It’s a second later when the sound of your yelping fills the air, him having just picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder like a measly ragdoll. You’re laughing loudly, hysterically. Slapping his denim-clad ass in sync with each step that carries you to a nearby storage room.

“Jungkook!” You’re breathless, giggly and excited, “Put me down! What are you doing?!”

But of course he doesn’t respond right away, shoving you into the props storage cupboard until your back is firmly pressed against a rail of items too miscellaneous to describe. It’s when the snap of the door locking registers with you that blood rushes to your cheeks. Peeling an inflatable pink flamingo from under your feet you launch it at Kook, til it bounces off that pretty little head of his and messes his long raven hair. Even that doesn’t deter him, the man’s still smiling as though he just won the lottery.

“What on earth are you doing?!” You snort, and Jungkook pretty much lunges at you with a new found determination. Still grinning. "Jungkook what are we doing in here?"

“Making a baby.”

--

“It’s negative.” Your husband’s voice sounds distant and absent, despite the fact he’s standing by the bathroom sink right in front of you.

Another negative pregnancy test. That makes it four in total, this being the first one to make you cry. It’s just so frustrating. You’ve read all the articles, all the books, you know all the old wives tales. Eat more yoghurt, that’ll get you pregnant. Drink less alcohol, that’ll get you pregnant. Keep track of your cycle to get pregnant. Put a pillow under your ass, abuse the doggy-style position, put your legs up against the wall after sex, take folic acid supplements –

Except you’ve tried all that, and here you are four months later. Surrounded by too many houseplants and white bathroom tiles that probably need cleaning again.

Still not pregnant.

It’s a Sunday morning and you’re sitting on the toilet in your bright ensuite bathroom, Kook having joined you out of sheer excitement that this time you might’ve got the results you were hoping for. But of course, that’s not the case. The weather outside is glorious, sunshine mocking the devastation coursing your veins. Four months you’ve been actively trying to conceive, what was once the beginning of an exciting new chapter has now diminished into nothing but a colossal disappointment. The only positive thing about the last four months has been the daily rampant sex.

“I’m sorry…” You sniffle, feeling guilty that you’ve been unable to get pregnant. Jungkook would be the most amazing father, you know that with every fibre in your being – you’re ashamed that you haven’t been able to give him that title yet.

At this Jungkook sighs, his features softening when he makes his way over and kneels in front of you. His eyes are sympathetic and tired, the polar opposite to the shiny child-like hope they were swimming with when you initially took the pregnancy test.

“Why are you apologising? You’ve done nothing wrong Y/N…” His voice is gentle and kind, quiet as it rolls off his tongue. His hands rest on your knees, pierced lips pursing when he catches sight of the first few tears to betray you. “Please don’t cry… It’ll happen when it happens.” He says reassuringly, squeezing your thigh.

Fearing the worst you can’t bring yourself to stop the sobs forming in your throat, “What if it doesn’t?” You sniffle again, not daring to look him in the eyes that will be no doubt disappointed, “What if I-, what if there’s something wrong with me?” You wail, smothering your face with shaky hands. “What if I can never get pregnant.”

“Hey, hey… Shhh…” Jungkook coos, tugging you onto the tiled floor with him until you’re sat in his lap, the two of you only wearing robes, “I’ll love you until the end of time no matter what happens, okay?”

“But—”

“Baby or no baby you’re my person Y/N. My best friend. My wife. The love of my life and nothing, and I mean nothing is ever gonna stop me from being in love with you.” His words get lost into your hair when he plants a chaste kiss to your head, soothingly rubbing the spans of your back. “It takes time to get pregnant sometimes, and for all we know it could be me.” A nervous exhale leaves him, “I have taken a few critical hits to the Jeon jewels over the years…”

At this you can’t fight the tiny smile creeping onto your face, nuzzled into his neck, “Jeon jewels?” You chuckle lightly.

Jungkook returns your hushed chuckle, relishing in the fact that he’s managed to stop your tears with one of his dumb jokes. Be it intentional or otherwise, “My testicles.”

“I got that.” You sniffle, swallowing the aftermath of your emotional breakdown.

“Maybe we should go to the doctor? I’m sure everything will be fine, we have only been trying for four months… But if you’re worried we could make an appointment?”  

“You think that’s a good idea?” You pull back to look at him, heart sinking at the glimmer of frustration and desperation behind his eyes. “But what if-, what if there really is something wrong with me? Or you? What are we gonna do?”

He nods slowly, zoned out while he processes your words, “Then… Then we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it.”

It’s two weeks and two doctors’ appointments later when you’re prepping vegetables to be thrown into the slow cooker, following your mom's homemade casserole recipe by the book. Jungkook barges the kitchen door open with a giant grin. Judging by the black latex gloves dangling from his baggy jeans he’s come straight home from work. When his eyes focus on you chopping veggies he hums contently, coming up behind you and snaking his tattooed arms over the bend of your waist.

“Good evening beautiful. How was work?” He’s in a good mood, a really good mood. And you question what could’ve possibly caused him to be so bouncy and smiley.

It’s not the affection that’s surprising to you, he’s a very touchy-feely husband and his love language is definitely physical touch. Hand holding, cuddling, playing with your hair, even just resting his legs atop of your own - he loves all of it. It’s more so the spring in his step and added honey to his tone that has you frowning, settling the knife down to face him.

“Work was fine… You’re in a good mood…” You chuckle, draping your arms over his broad shoulders.

“Did the doctor call you today?” He blurts excitedly, smiling from ear-to-ear.

Your heart sinks, his words hitting like a bullet to the vital organ, “No… Why? Did they call you?”

At this your husband swallows, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing up and down anxiously. His hold on you loosens ever so slightly, his own features softening until there’s no trace of joy remaining. Not even in his eyes, his long choppy hair is brushed back for a change, revealing his thick brows and forehead. Leaving nowhere to hide his disappointment.

“Umm, yeah they did… I’m sure they’ll call you with your results tomorrow though, don’t worry.” He feigns a smile, lips closed and awkward-looking.

Nodding in response you fight the urge to panic, “So… You got your results back?”

“Um… Mhm.” He clears his throat, suddenly pulling you into a tight bear hug that catches your breath, “I’m sure they’ll call you with yours soon princess. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Forget I—”

“It’s fine.” You bite, resting your cheek to his strong shoulder, chin already beginning to quiver, presumably from the anxiety you feel toward the situation, “So… Everything on your end is… okay?”

He plants a shy kiss to your temple, “Yeah… The swimmers are swimming as they should be.” He whispers, cradling you in his arms. “I’m sure everything is fine Y/N, please don’t be upset. I’m such an asshole I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.” Another kiss, this one burning a hole in your skin and sending a sucker punch straight to your empty womb.

“It’s okay…” You sniffle, a strange pain budding in your gut. It's that same gnawing sensation that prompts you to call the doctor the next day, but that's when you discover they want to run more tests.

--

This isn’t happening.

Jungkook’s fingers are entwined with your own, squeezing you tightly. You feel numb. Your husband sits beside you in the doctor’s office with pinched brows, hanging on to every single word spoken by Dr Min, but you zoned out around the time Dr Min uttered the words;

‘Asymptomatic endometriosis is particularly hard to diagnose because of the lack of symptoms, it’s a miracle we were even able to spot the abnormalities during your first pelvic exam. I’m really sorry to be the one to say this Y/N… But your chances of conceiving naturally are... minimal to none. I’m afraid you’re already at stage four. There are surgeries that can—’

It’s like an outer body experience. You can see your own body deflating beside your husband, your fingers cramping from the grip he has on them. You can make out Dr Min’s long black hair gathering at the nape of his neck, contrasting against his white lab coat. You know there’s a conversation happening, you can hear their voices, but you don’t have the strength to partake.

Where your legs were bouncing anxiously upon entering the small office, now they’re completely still. It feels as though blood has stopped pumping your veins, like a part of you just died and your body is in shock, mourning the loss of what will never be.

“What about IVF?” You hear Jungkook say, every word stained with hope and desperation.

Dr Min’s lips purse, “This stage of endometriosis means a worse prognosis for IVF treatments, in comparison to the milder stages. It’s not impossible though, it does happen…” He opens the first draw in his wooden desk, the clunking sound snapping you back to reality, “Would you like me to refer you to a specialist?”

“Yes—”

“No.” You cut Jungkook’s words short, not daring to look at either man in the room. Swallowing the lump gathered at the back of your throat. “No thank you.”

“O-okay.” The doctor nods once, soft milky features washed with silent understanding, “There are a lot of groups and online forums for women in your—”

“No.” You sigh, battling the urge to break, “Thank you for your time but I think we’re done here.”

Without giving either man another millisecond of acknowledgement you tear your hand away from Jungkook’s, pushing yourself to your feet that carry you to his black Mercedes parked out front. It’s raining, a fitting bleakness in the air that you can genuinely relate to in this moment.

You’ll never be able to give Jungkook what he’s always wanted.

“Y/N!” The man himself calls out after you, jogging until he’s standing beside the car. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise… There are tonnes of options and—”

“Unlock the car Jungkook.” Your voice is flat, eyes never meeting his.

He shuffles closer, tugging you into his broad chest with a pained sigh, “Come here, I know this is a lot to process but—”

“Unlock the car.” You say louder, not returning the hug currently threatening to crush your bones. “Please… Just unlock the car Kook.” You soften, realising your anger is misplaced. You’re not mad at him – you can’t be mad at him.

You’re mad at you.

The journey home is spent in uncomfortable silence. In your peripheral vision you can make out Jungkook gnawing his lower lip, a nervous habit of his, but his eyes never break from the road ahead. Not until you’re parked on the gravel of your driveway, but by the time he looks to you with those big brown doe-eyes you fell in love with, you’re already sliding out the car.

His presence is strong and right behind you when you unlock the door, but you don’t turn to face him, you can’t. All he’s ever wanted is to be a father, to have his own children to love and dote on. A tribe of Jeon’s to play sports with, share secrets with, to laugh and to cry with. To carry his family name.

You’ll never be able to give him any of that.

All you’ve wanted for the last four months is to give him what he deserves, a child of his own to raise. Truthfully you’ve been more in love with idea of Jungkook as a father than the thought of you being a mother. You just wanted to make him happy, you’re married, not getting any younger and well society has drilled into you that a baby is the next normal stage of life. Something you won’t ever be able to give your husband.

A normal life.

“Can we at least talk about this please?” His voice is oozing with sadness, pulling your heart strings when he locks the front door behind him. The grey hoodie he wears is darkened from the rain, as are his blue jeans. His long hair damp when he brushes it away from his chiselled face. Revealing just how upset he is, and the punches just keep coming.

Standing in the hallway you nod, emotions bubbling, boiling, crawling up to the surface and you know full-well you’re about to erupt at any given moment. The irrational side of your brain is merging with the half that knows better than this. But still, you can’t keep it together anymore. You’re looking straight at your husband’s face with a serious expression, trying to mask the fear inside you.

He deserves someone who can give him what he wants.

“Okay.” You feign a smile, internally crumbling, “What do you want to talk about?”

Jungkook calmly walks over to you, until his inked hands find your shoulders, lowering his head to get a better look at you, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” You huff, pulling away from his comforting hold.

“Don’t do that.” He follows you with a sigh when you attempt to walk away, heading upstairs into your shared bedroom. “Don’t push me away Y/N. Talk to me… Please.”

“About what?” With a hammering heart it’s taking every ounce of self-restraint you have not to lash out and project your feelings onto him. Your breaths turn shallow, erratic, eyes frantically looking everywhere in the master bedroom save for Jungkook’s features currently crumpled with despair.

“Y/N…” Another exhale leaves his lips, but it’s when he’s suddenly in front of you gripping your wrists that you finally snap.

“What?! What do you want me to say Jungkook?!” You yell at him, wincing at the fact he remains unphased by your outburst.

“I’m sorry that I can never give you what you always wanted! I’m sorry! Okay, is that what you want?! I’m sorry that I can’t do the one thing women are biologically designed and programmed to do! I’m sorry that you’ve wasted all these years pining after me for it to turn out to be a disaster, a fucking failure! Is that what you want to hear?! Is that what you wanna talk about?!”

Jungkook’s eyes are swimming in worry, shiny with equal parts sorrow and empathy when he finally speaks after a brief silence, “What I always wanted Y/N… is you.” He whispers, brows furrowed, “I told you, baby or no baby there is nothing that will stop me from loving—”

“That was before you knew I can never give you a child... Before-, before I was diagnosed with a disease I don't even have symptoms for!” You sniffle, tears betraying you as they start to build up behind your eyelids. “I’m so sorry Jungkook...” The weight of your body makes your knees buckle, until you’re crashing to the ground with a thud in a sea of tears, sobbing, wailing, crying into your hands on the bedroom floor.

“I’m so fucking sorry... I can-, I can't-, I'm sorry!” You wail, barely able to catch your breath.

Without a moment of hesitation your husband calmly settles on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs before tugging you into his lap. Time simultaneously speeds and slows while you cry it out into the crook of his neck, fists balling the material of the hood gathered behind him.

“I’m sorry…” You manage to choke out again between ragged breaths.

Jungkook squeezes you tighter, resting his angular chin atop your shoulder, “Stop apologising. This is nobody’s fault, okay? But…” He hesitates, his tone weary and uncertain, “Why did you say no to IVF?”

“I-, I…” You swallow, attempting to calm yourself down, “I don’t want to have to go through all that Kook… I-, I’m… No. I just-,” You struggle to find the words to express your emotions, truthfully you don’t want to put your body through the stress of IVF, you know it’s not always guaranteed and the second you discovered you can’t make a baby was the second you decided – you don’t want a baby. Not if it has to be like this.

“I’m sorry… I-, if we can’t… I don’t want-, I… Jungkook I don’t want—”

“Shhh…” He coos, kissing your temple, “It’s okay… There’s other routes we can take. We have the savings to fund them. Be it surrogacy, adoption—”

“No, you don’t get it...” You peel away from him, shaking your head with mascara staining your cheeks, “I… I don’t want to do this if we can’t do it naturally. I don’t want a baby if I’ll never know the weight of it growing in my womb…” Your breath hitches, “I’m so sorry Jungkook… But—”

“Stop apologising.” His smile is small, pained yet genuine when he thumbs away your tears, “I understand. We don’t need a baby to be complete. We have each other for that.” His doe-eyes are staring at you intensely, sparkling with adoration and sincerity as they usually are.

“But you deserve to be with someone who can give you—”

“Don’t say that.” He snaps angrily, jaw so tight it threatens to shatter, “Don’t you ever fucking say that to me Y/N. You are my world. You. Nothing and nobody else. I didn’t spend my entire life madly in love with you for you to tell me I deserve something different. Nobody has the right to tell me what I should have or what I should want, nobody. Not even you.”

You’re stunned, visibly taken aback by that, and so your voice is barely audible when it crawls off your tongue, “But you’ve always wanted to be a dad…”

“No,” He shakes his head before pressing his forehead to yours, “I’ve always wanted you. A life with you. To spend my entire life loving you, whatever that looked like. I’m not going to leave you because of this, you can try and push me away as much as you want but I meant what I said in my vows,” He wets his lips, “I’ve chosen you every day for my entire life and I promise to keep choosing you, to honour that choice.”

“Jungkook…”

“Y/N I love you. Okay? More than anything. And if you don’t want to look at the other options I respect the fuck outa that.” He’s still wiping away your tears with one hand, the other settled on your lower back, “We don’t need a baby to complete us. I don’t need a baby to complete me. By some miracle I finally have you, and that’s more than I could’ve ever dreamed of.”

"But... What's the next step if we don't have a family?" You kiss the tip of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

"Next step? What do you mean next step?" He frowns, chuckling lightly, "The step we're standing on is pretty fucking great. We have a beautiful home, money in the bank, the freedom to do whatever we want whenever we want... We have a good life Y/N. A strong marriage. Do you know how rare that is? Waking up next to someone every day and loving them ten times more than you did the night before." He offers you a genuine smile, "This doesn't change anything. I'll love you until the very end, no matter what."

"Til' the very end?” You repeat with a tiny smile, beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's heart-breaking that the choice of starting a family the conventional way has been stolen from you, by an illness you've shown no symptoms for, but Jungkook is right. It's a choice to start a family, it’s a choice to look at other options. It’s your choice, just as he’s always chosen you.

"No matter what." He confirms, stealing a soft kiss.

And you choose him.

x

CRYING SCREAMING THE ENDING MY HEART IS SO FULL

hotter than hell | final. (m)

banner by the lovely solaris @jamaisjoons​​ <3

➵ summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

↳ part of the namkook moonrise masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons​​

➵ pairing: fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader

➵ genre: supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 19k

➵ warnings: swearing, semi-accurate biblical depictions of angels and demons, fantasy-based story-telling, mentions of fear, violence & injury, mentions of blood, aNGST, tragedy that leads to depression :(, light mentions of taking one’s own life (very very minor, please read with caution if this is triggering), morning after shenanigans, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, pussy-eating, heavy making out, petting, unprotected sex (wrap before tapping pls <3), massive dicc!jungkook, switch!reader, marking, scratching, cum play/tasting, rough sex, shower sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, hitting it from the back <3

➵ a/n: NAURRR it’s the final now :( I really hope you guys like this ending and please excuse me if it’s not my best, for those who don’t know I wrote this while recovering from heart surgery :]  please excuse any mistakes i don’t have a beta for this!! i hope you enjoy my lovelies 🥺💓 feedback is always appreciated <3

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | final. |

A light breeze dances across your cheek, causing goosebumps to freckle your skin. Your chest squishes into the mattress beneath you, splaying a hand across Jungkook’s brawny chest for warmth.

Except, Jungkook isn’t next to you. 

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