βMY PRETTY, PERFECT, MESSY DRUNKβ J.JK
in which jungkook orders pizza, puts on a movie, and fully expects a normal night in β only to end up with a drunk, straddling, hickey-leaving mess of a girlfriend who can't stop complimenting his jawline, and somehow? he's never been more in love.
pairing: idol!jungkook x drunk!femreader
genre: fluff, established relationship, soft domestic vibes
warning/tags: drunk reader, alcohol consumption, suggestive content (no smut), hickeys, straddling, drunk kissing, jungkook being a sweetheart, soft boundaries, pet names, fluff, established relationship, secret idol relationship, lowkey chaotic reader x calm jungkook
wc: oneshot (2k)
masterlist
the seoul night skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a million city lights blurred into soft halos against the inky black.
inside, the house was a sanctuary of low, warm light and the kind of comfortable silence that only exists between two people who have nothing left to prove to each other.
jungkook, in his signature uniform of a loose, washed-out gray sweatshirt and black shorts, was sprawled on one end of the massive sectional sofa. his hair, still slightly damp from a post-practice shower, fell in soft, dark waves over his forehead.
across from him, curled up with her socked feet tucked under a plush throw blanket, was you.
the coffee table was a glorious battlefield of late-night cravings.
the iconic red-and-white box of pizza, half-demolished, sat next to a bucket of golden, crispy fried chicken that still radiated warmth. little plastic containers held pools of creamy ranch, spicy gochujang sauce, and a sweet honey mustard dip.
jungkook cradled a tall, frosty glass of draft beer, a thin trail of condensation sliding down its side, while you hugged a large glass of cold peach iced tea, the ice cubes clinking softly every time you shifted.
βokay, okay,β jungkook said, pointing a piece of pepperoni pizza at the screen where the movieβs opening credits had just ended. βthis part? this is the best part. just watch his face.β
you squinted at the screen, watching a grizzled detective stare down a suspect. βhe just blinked, koo.β
βitβs not just a blink, baby,β he insisted, his doe eyes wide with sincerity as he took a bite.
he chewed, wiped a stray smear of tomato sauce from the corner of his lip with his thumb, and then pointed at the screen again.
βitβs the micro-expression of a man who has seen too much. the slight twitch in his jaw. the weariness. itβs called acting.β
you snorted, tearing off a piece of juicy fried chicken and dipping it liberally into the ranch. βand you would know about micro-expressions, mr. βi-have-three-different-faces-for-every-second-of-a-performanceβ?β
he grinned, a flash of bunny teeth that melted your heart every single time. βexactly. iβm a professional observer of human emotion. now hush, the dialogue is crucial.β
and so the night went. a rhythm you knew by heart.
heβd dissect a scene, youβd tease him for overthinking a simple action movie. youβd steal a piece of his chicken, heβd retaliate by stealing a sip of your iced tea and making a face because it was βtoo sweetβ.
he told you about a new choreography he was struggling with, his hands moving through the air to illustrate a particularly difficult transition. you told him about the ridiculous argument your coworker got into over the last cup of office coffee.
he laughed, a real, full-bellied laugh that crinkled his eyes, and reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your jaw for a second longer than necessary.
βiβm glad youβre here,β he said, his voice softer now, meant only for the space between you.
βme too,β you replied, your heart doing a little flip.
even after all this time, the quiet intimacy of these nights still felt like a secret superpower. just jeon jungkook, the biggest star in the world, bare-faced and giggling over pizza grease with his girlfriend.
the movie progressed. the pizza box was reduced to crumbs. the chicken bucket held only a lone, abandoned drumstick. as the on-screen hero prepared for the final, explosive showdown, you found your attention wandering from the screen to the glass in jungkookβs hand.
the golden liquid, the thin layer of foam. heβd always said it was an acquired taste, a βgrown-upβ drink. youβd always been content with your sweet, predictable beverages. but tonight, watching the light catch the amber depths, a spark of mischief ignited in your chest.
you reached over, your fingers brushing his as you gently tugged the glass from his hand.
he looked at you, one eyebrow raised. βbaby?β
βi want to try it,β you said, bringing the glass to your nose. it smelled of bread and something floral, with a sharp, hoppy bite underneath.
he knew you.
he knew your history of getting dizzy after one glass of wine at the company dinner. βyou have the tolerance of a hamster,β he said, a warning laced with affection. βyou wonβt like it.β
βyou donβt know that,β you challenged, already tilting the glass.
the first sip was.. a betrayal.
a bitter, carbonated shock that made your tongue recoil. you grimaced, your whole face scrunching up like youβd bitten into a lemon. jungkook laughed, a low, knowing chuckle.
βtold you,β he said, gently taking the glass back.
but a stubborn part of you refused to accept defeat. it wasnβt about the taste anymore. it was about the tiny rebellion.
so, over the next twenty minutes, while he was engrossed in the movieβs climaxβexplosions and dramatic music filling the roomβyou became a ninja.
a very clumsy, very obvious ninja.
every time he set his glass down on the coaster, your hand would dart out a minute later, and youβd take a quick, furtive sip. gulp, actually.
the bitterness started to fade, replaced by a warm, spreading fuzziness that felt like sinking into a heated blanket. your limbs got heavier. your thoughts got.. wobbly.
the second the movieβs end credits rolled, a triumphant orchestral swell filling the silence, jungkook turned to you to make a comment about the final plot twist. he stopped.
you were staring at him. not your normal, soft, adoring stare. this was a laser-focused, slightly cross-eyed, intense look.
your cheeks were flushed a deep, rosy pink, and your lips were parted in a lazy, dreamy smile.
βyouβre drunk,β he stated, not a question. He looked at his glass, which was now conspicuously empty. βyou drank almost all of it.β
βmβnot drunk,β you slurred, the words melting into each other. βmβwarm. and you look.. shiny?β
he sighed, but there was no annoyance in it. only a deep, boundless fondness. βokay, baby. movieβs over. time for bed.β
he started to shift, to stand up and offer you a hand, but you were faster. or, more accurately, you were more recklessly determined. in a movement that was equal parts clumsy and graceful, you swung a leg over his thighs and settled squarely onto his lap, straddling him.
your hands landed on his broad shoulders for balance, and your face was suddenly very, very close to his.
his hands, acting on pure instinct, came up to rest on your waist, his fingers spanning the curve of your hips. he was steady, a solid anchor beneath your sudden, stormy chaos.
βwhoa there, angel,β he murmured, his thumbs drawing small, soothing circles on your sides. βyouβre a bit tipsy.β
you shook your head, which was a mistake because it made the room spin pleasantly. you leaned in, your nose brushing against his. βno. Iβm looking at you. Really looking.β
your words were a syrupy, honeyed drawl. βyouβre so pretty, jungkook. like.. so pretty. itβs not fair.β your fingers traced the line of his jaw, the shell of his ear.
βwhen you work out? and your arms get all.. grrr?β you made a sound that was supposed to be a growl but came out more like a kittenβs mew.
βi wanna bite your biceps. and when youβre on stage.. oh my god.β you closed your eyes, a shiver running through you.
βwhen you do that thing with your hips? or when you throw your head back and your neck is all there, all sweaty and gorgeous? i almost die. every single time. the stylist noonas have to fan me. they think itβs the heat from the lights.β
he was trying so hard to keep a straight face, to be the responsible one, but a laugh was bubbling in his chest. your unfiltered, drunken rambling was the most adorable thing heβd ever witnessed.
βand youβre so cute when you sleep,β you continued, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
βyour mouth falls open a little bit. and you make these little.. mmph sounds.β you poked his chest with a finger for emphasis.
βand when you brush your teeth? you just wander around, looking all fluffy and domestic. i look at you and i just want to.. eat you. like, just nom nom nom.β you mimed biting his cheek, and he finally let the laugh out, a soft, breathy sound of pure delight.
βyeah?β he whispered, his eyes sparkling.
βyeah,β you breathed, and then you kissed him.
it wasn't a tentative, sober kiss. it was a needy, open-mouthed, slightly sloppy collision of lips. you tasted like peach iced tea and bitter beer, a strange but intoxicating combination. your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging gently.
then your lips were on the move, trailing a hot, wet path from the corner of his mouth, down the sharp line of his jaw, to the strong column of his neck.
you found the spot just below his ear, the one you knew drove him crazy, and you sucked. hard. he felt the sting of a forming bruise, a hickey blooming like a dark flower on his skin.
βbaby,β he breathed, his hands tightening on your waist. not pushing you away, just.. holding on.
you didnβt listen. you kissed your way down to his collarbone, nipping at the skin visible in the wide neck of his sweatshirt. you pulled the fabric aside and left another mark. you were a woman on a mission, a chaotic, love-drunk little menace.
you grew impatient.
your hands left his shoulders and grabbed his wrists. he felt your small, warm hands wrap around his, and then you were pulling, guiding, placing his palms squarely on your chest, right over your heart that was hammering like a trapped bird.
you looked up at him, your eyes hazy and pleading. βtouch me,β you whispered, your voice raw. βplease? do something. anything. i need..β
he went very still. the air in the room changed, charged with a different kind of electricity.
but he didnβt move his hands. he just looked at you, his dark eyes soft and full of a love so profound it seemed to absorb all the light in the room.
he leaned in, pressing a single, impossibly gentle kiss to your forehead. then your nose. then each of your closed eyelids.
βno, baby,β he said, his voice a low, steady rumble. βnot tonight.β
you whined, a small, frustrated sound, and tried to wiggle in his lap.
he shushed you, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder. βyouβre drunk, my love. my dizzy, adorable, chaos-gremlin. and i love you too much to do anything you might not remember perfectly in the morning.β
he started to rock you, a gentle, swaying motion. βtomorrow, if you still want to, you can ask me again. and iβll say yes. a thousand times, yes. but right now? you need water, and you need sleep.β
he shifted, scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. you let out a surprised squeak, your arms automatically looping around his neck, your face burying itself in the warm, safe curve of his shoulder.
you could feel the steady, powerful beat of his heart against your side.
he carried you to the bedroom, the city lights now a soft, silver glow through the sheer curtains. he laid you down on the cool sheets, pulled a glass of water from the bedside table, and made you drink half of it.
he helped you out of your jeans, pulled his own oversized t-shirt over your head, and tucked you under the duvet like a child.
you were already half-asleep, the world a fuzzy, warm blur. you felt him climb in next to you, felt his arm snake around your waist and pull you back against the solid wall of his chest. he was warm. he was safe. he was yours.
βmy little lightweight,β he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. βmy pretty, perfect, messy drunk.β
you mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be βlove you.β
he smiled into your hair. βi love you more, baby. even when youβre trying to give me a heart attack.β
he pressed one last, lingering kiss to your shoulder, and let the quiet of the night and the rhythm of your breathing lull him to sleep, holding you like you were the most precious, fragile, and utterly chaotic thing in his entire universe.
and to him, you were.
a/n: i LOVEEEE this one sm, i hope you guys do too! please check out my other fics as well! <3
