when did you get hot? áŻâ jeon jungkook
â a dreamersparacosm 7k special .á.á
SUMMARY. Life after high school has been pretty mundane. Give or take a few breakups, a few quarter life crises, youâve done well for yourself. Enter Jeon Jungkook: a blast from the past and your ex-Chemistry tutor, except now, it seems he's traded in his glasses and textbooks for a lip piercing and tattoos. The universe is clearly testing you... or maybe it's giving you one last shot to get it right.
pairing. jeon jungkook x reader
word count. 21.7k
warnings/genre. ex-cheerleader!reader, oc used to be a mean girl, ex-nerd!jungkook, jungkook used to be OBSESSED with oc, like clinically obsessed (what is wrong with him), slight sexting (kinda maybe) alcohol consumption, jimin instigating but whatâs new, making out in dirty club hallways, fingering in an uber, heâs HUNGRYYY, he has a d*ck piercing!, oral (f receiving), you bounce on it, he fucks you while carrying you, idk read the rest they have sex, he cums inside you
note. WE NEED TO BRING BACK THE DYING ART OF A 10k+ WORD ONE-SHOT. the concept of publishing a 7k celly when my 6k celly hasnât even been posted yet⊠i hate me too. i hit 7k a few days ago but this has been in the works since manâs best friend dropped. iâm quite proud of this, if i do say so myself. also before anyone yells at me, this was NOT on the to-do list but when thereâs a will, thereâs a way (or in my case, if you get a little tipsy, your brain starts thinking of ex-nerd!jungkook and this happens). this is just a fun little thing. porn with plot! but anywho, thank you all for following me, for engaging with my work, for continuing to give me a platform to share my passions. i love you all. hereâs to many more cellyâs!
â¶ïž âąáá||á|á|||| when did you get hot? by sabrina carpenter
banner creds | masterlist
Saturdays. 3 PM. Brunch. Itâs been carved in stone since the day you met Park Jimin during your freshman year at Yonsei University, when he was still closeted and you were still treating every night like your last on earth.
Today, heâs on a rampage about his fiancĂ© of two years, Kim Taehyung.
âDo you know what he did? He bought a twelve foot cactus. Twelve. Fucking. Feet. And guess where it is now?â Jimin waves his fork dramatically, almost stabbing two nearby patrons in the process. âIn the middle of our beautifully crafted living room. Heâs lost his fucking mind.â
You hum, twirling a straw in your iced latte, half-listening and half-focused on the couple next to you who seems to be arguing. âSo sorry, Jiminie. I donât know how you do it.â
âThank you.â He sighs. âItâs a lawsuit waiting to happen when I inevitably walk into it. You know, when I told Tae to pursue art, I didnât think it meant this.â
Taehyung and Jimin have the kind of love story that makes romantic comedies look documentary-level realistic. By comparison, your love life is a blooper reel that never made it to air. Theyâve been disgustingly in love since senior year of university, and youâve been their trusty little third wheel. While itâs comforting to hang out with a couple that has a dynamic as healthy as theirs, you do have to fight the pang of jealousy that hits you everytime.Â
âLast week it was the sculpture made of kitchen utensils. This week, desert plants. Next week? Probably something with a blow torch,â Jimin carries on, poking at his salad mercilessly.Â
You snort. âTae doesnât know how to work a blow torch.â
âHe could, is my point. Heâll try anything once.â Jiminâs eyes light suggestively, and the gag reflex hits fast and mercilessly. âLike that one time he wanted to try out suspension andââ
âJimin. Please. I am trying to enjoy my coffee,â you plead.Â
He rolls his eyes. âLike you donât love us.â
âI do,â you reply quickly. âBut please spare a girl the details of your sex escapades.â
âMaybe youâre bitter because you need some sex escapades of your own.â Jimin shrugs. Heâs not saying it to be rudeâthe man doesnât have a mean bone in his body, unless someoneâs rude to his fiance.Â
Poor Park Jimin has been running a one-man campaign to get you laid for months. The last time you remotely showed interest in a man was a year ago, and that catastrophe ended with you sobbing on their couch for 72 hours straight while Taehyung made you soup and Jimin burned sage to âcleanse the toxic energy.â
You have no interest in any of it.
Sure, sex is cool and all, but the idea of the emotional turmoil that comes with the territory seems like something you can do without.Â
âWhat did I say about bringing up this topic again?â you groan.Â
âCâmon, please tell me you have something new thatâll make me feel better about my cactus situation.â
Your fingers collect the condensation on your plastic cup, pretending to be deeply engrossed by it. âI have nothing.â
âSo as exciting as my cactus?âÂ
Your foot kicks his ankle under the table and the noise he makes in retaliation is enough to get dirty looks from the other patrons. âJesus Christ. Arenât you a ball of fucking sunshine?â he moans in agony. âThis is why you need to have sex. You get all crabby and violent when you donât. Whenâs the last time you had sex again?â
Okayâthere was that guy from the marketing conference in MarchâŠ. No wait. That was last year. February? No, that was the guy who ghosted you after two dates. January? You werenât even in the country in January. December feels like a decade ago but that was... oh god, was that really eight months ago? Nine? The guy with the man bun who worked at the bookstore and couldnât find yourâÂ
âDonât worry about it.â
âYikes.â He gives you a dramatic side-eye, one that screams you are a pathetic loser, but lovingly. âYou need to stop getting coffee with me and go get coffee with a man.â
You frown. âWell, youâre a man?â
He rolls his eyes. âA man who doesnât enjoy the good olâ cock up his ass.â
Fair play. Jimin leans back in his chair, studying you intently. Never a good sign. âYou know what your problem is?â
You pick up your latte, taking a few sips. âEnlighten me, Park Jimin.â
âYouâre too picky.â
Coffee snorts out of your nostrils, landing right onto the table. Jimin flings napkins at the mess, disgusted. âIâm sorry, have you met me? Iâve went out with some weirdos.â
âNo, no, not the weirdos.â He waves a hand in the air. He;s about to go on one of his famous monologues, and all you can do is sit back in horror and watch. âIâm talking about the good ones. The ones you actually like. You find one tiny flaw and suddenly it's âoh, he chews too loudâ or âhe uses the wrong there, their, they're.â Like, relax. Nobodyâs perfect.â
âReally? Says the guy currently plotting his fianceâs death over a home decor choice.â
âThatâs different.â Jiminâs pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, something he truly only does when youâve exhausted his last nerve. âTaehyung and I are past the point of no return. We're in too deep. You, my dear sweet angel, are sabotaging perfectly good opportunities because you're scared.â
Of course, youâve had this conversation with your therapist numerous times, and youâll do anything to avoid the topic in your personal life.
But before you can open your mouth to argue, a voice cuts through. Itâs low but polite, maybe a little uncertain.Â
âJimin-ssi?â
You donât bother looking up to see who it is. Jimin knows everyone and their mother, their cousin, probably their dog too. Walking down the street with him is no easy feat, considering half of Seoul stops to talk to him. So, you do what you always do: focus on your phone and ignore the small talk about someoneâs new job or whatever mundane life update theyâre dying to share.
You scroll through Instagram, half-listening as they exchange pleasantries. Something about the gym, mutual friends, weekend plans. Standard small talk that you've heard a thousand times.Â
âYeah, bro, itâs been forever,â Jiminâs saying. He sounds happier than he normally does when he talks to these people. âI saw your LinkedIn update. Howâs the new job treating you? Still insane?âÂ
âBetter now that Iâm settled in,â the mysterious voice responds, and thereâs something familiar about it that tickles the back of your brain, but youâre too busy watching someone's Instagram story about their breakfast to pay attention. âThe teamâs chill, and I donât have to be on call on weekends anymore.â
âYou deserve it after all that overtime hell,â Jimin laughs. âOh, hey, you should totally meet my friend [YN] here. [Y/N], this is Jeon Jungkook.â
Your head snaps up. Your phone falls to your lap.Â
What. The. Fuck.Â
You havenât heard that name since high school.Â
High school you, to put it mildly, was kind of a bitch.
You were a cheerleader, top of the social food chain. Naturally, you failed a few classes because you were too busy making out with Kim Mingyu behind the bleachers and planning which party to hit up on Friday night to care about things like academic integrity.Â
When your GPA started looking tragic enough to threaten your spot as cheer captain, the guidance counselor assigned you a tutor. And since the universe loves to have fun with you, you were paired with Jeon Jungkook. Lanky, awkward Jeon Jungkook, with messy brown hair that looks like he cut it himself with safety scissors, thin silver glasses that slid down his nose every five seconds, and wide, innocent boba eyes.Â
All that to sayâyou did what any mean girl would do and took advantage of him. Batted your eyelashes, laughed at his terrible jokes, and suddenly your chemistry homework was getting done without you having to lift a finger.Â
Tests? He'd leave his answer sheet just visible enough for you to copy.Â
Lab reports? Practically wrote themselves, if by âthemselvesâ you mean Jungkook wrote them while you filed your nails and complained about how boring science was.Â
So, this? This has to be a comedic joke. This is a prank. Jimin is pranking youâitâs an elaborate one, you'll give him that. That's the only logical explanation because there is absolutely no way that the scrawny, stuttering kid who used to turn tomato red everytime you asked him to explain a chemistry problem is now standing here, towering over your table.Â
The man who stands before you has a lip piercing, one that hugs the curvature of his pink lips. A sleeve of tattoos that curls down his arm in vivid ink. His hair is perfectly tousled, dark chestnut locks falling into each other.Â
And most importantly, those arms. Biceps. He could probably bench press you. Why are you thinking about him bench pressing you? Stop thinking about him bench pressing you. Oh god, you're staring. You're definitely staring. Say something. Anything. Be cool.
He isâthere's no other word for itâbuff. Like, really buff.Â
And he's looking right at you with dark eyes that definitely weren't that intense in high school, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
â[Y/N] [Y/L/N]...â His voice has a deeper timber to it, with a confidence that high school Jungkook could never have. His tone alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine. âItâs been a minute.â
âUh, Iâyeah,â you gulp down a quarter-sized lump that magically appears in your throat. âIt has.â
Smooth. Incredibly smooth. Someone needs to hand you a medal for conversational excellence.Â
His eyes narrow into slits, like heâs analyzing you and your pathetic life. Sizing you up to discover that youâve lost all importance in the world, and are now just another girl in the world.Â
Jimin, completely oblivious to everything, beams at the two of you. âAmazing! You two already know each other.â He claps his hands together. âJungkook, you should sit. [Y/N] and I were just catching up on her sad little love life.â
Damn you, Park Jimin.Â
Maybe ten years ago, you wouldnât have cared if he knew about your romantic failures, but with the black shirt hugging his biceps so perfectly, you resent Jiminâs openness.Â
âI was notââ you protest, but Jungkookâs already got a hand on the empty chair between you two, plopping into it.Â
âWas she now?â Jungkook tuts, looking over at you expectantly. âHow sad is sad?â
âOkay, not sad.â You roll your eyes. âItâs just⊠quiet.â
His eyes dance with amusement, and you sink into the chair. âI canât imagine you having trouble in this department.â
If only he knew the half of it.Â
You open your mouth to combat the embarrassment, maybe to come up with some elaborate lie about how you have three dates lined up tomorrow night, but a server interrupts you before you get the chance. She smiles at Jungkook, and you can't help but note how her eyes twinkle when she realizes how utterly attractive he is. You sink one inch lower into the chair.Â
Please donât order, Jungkook. Ordering means staying and your brain (or your ego, for that matter) canât take a second more.Â
She asks what he wants, pearly whites on display, and he replies smoothly, âJust a black coffee is fine. Thanks, sweetheart.âÂ
He turns back to you and Jimin, smiling lightly. Behind him, the server trips over her own two feet a bit before adjusting her shirt and walking off. You watch the whole exchange with a weird feeling in your chest. It's not jealousyâyou have no claim to be jealous. But it's something. Maybe annoyance that she was so obvious about it. Maybe annoyance that he didn't seem to notice.Â
âSo, how do you two know each other?â Jiminâs smile resembles a mischievous cartoon villain who just tied someone to railroad tracks. Vibrating with joy, eyes gleaming, the whole nine yards. You donât even need to hear him speak to know what heâs thinking.Â
âHigh school.âÂ
You and Jungkook both say in unison, surprising even yourself. He glances over at you before elaborating. âI was her Chemistry tutor.â
The memory alone sends shivers of disgust down your spine. You can still picture it so clearly: high school you in your cheer uniform, sitting across from him in the library with phone in hand, texting Mingyu about whose parents were out of town that weekend while Jungkook explained electron configurations. Heâd push his glasses up his nose, stumble over his words when youâd sigh and lean forward, watch him turn crimson red and stutter through the rest of the explanation.Â
Evil. Pure, unadulterated evil.Â
âYou needed a tutor in high school?â Jimin snorts, taking a long sip of his drink.Â
âHey, that shit isnât easy.â You push his shoulder playfully.Â
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair. âDefinitely not easy when youâre too busy with cheerleading practice to study.â
âAnd you were a cheerleader?â Jimin gapes.
âOkay, thatâs enough reminiscing for today.â
Jimin raises his hand. âIâm not done reminiscing. I want to hear more about cheerleader [YN].â
Your face falls flat. Luckily, before Jungkook can embarrass you more with tales from a decade ago, the server comes back with his coffee, making sure to toss him the widest smile her pearly whites can muster.Â
Jungkookâs lips wrap around the cup. Your eyes just so happen to fall on the movement, on the way they hug the rim. Were they always that kissable or did he get lip filler?
He meets your gaze.
Shit.
You turn back to Jimin, whoâs eagerly awaiting more from Jungkook. âWhat else donât I know about high school [Y/N]? Sheâs never told me anything.â
âWell,â Jungkook starts, and by the way his lips curve upwards, you can tell the next anecdote wonât be endearing. âShe did ask me once if we could âskip the math partsâ of chemistry.â
Jimin bursts out in laughter. âYouâre kidding me.â
âIn my defense, chemistry is like, ninety percent math,â you retort. âThatâs a reasonable request.â
âIt really wasnât,â Jungkook counters, and his grin widens. Thereâs something almost⊠predatory about it. Like heâs enjoying watching you squirm. âBut then again, you always did think the rules didnât apply to you.â
For a moment, you canât do anything but stare at him. This confidence, this self-assured way heâs teasing you without a hint of anxiety that used to color every interaction, is foreign.Â
The absolute worst part of it all is that if he wasnât currently roasting you for being a shallow human being, this might be the sexiest thing youâve ever witnessed.Â
The eye contact, the slight smirk playing at his lips, the veins poking out of his biceps. All of it both excites and confuses you.Â
âWhat do you mean?â You tilt your head, feigning innocence.Â
âNothing.â He shakes his head, laughs to himself. âJust that some things never really change.â
A pregnant pause fills the space. Jiminâs eyes dart between you two like heâs at the US Open and this is the match of the century.Â
âYou know, she also once asked me if atoms were contagious," Jungkook adds, turning to Jimin like youâre not even there. Itâs a fucking power playâone that high school you inventedâand you hate how effective it is.Â
A long exhale leaves your mouth, and you have to bite back a thousand venomous words in retaliation. Jimin laughs. âOh, donât worry. In college, she asked me if square roots were plants.âÂ
Okay, so math wasn't your strongest suit. Sue a girl.Â
Jungkookâs hands wrap around his cup, taking a quick sip. Theyâre bigger than you remember, rougher, with calluses to match.Â
Truthfully, everything about him is just⊠more. Bigger, broader, bolder.
You shift gears, clearing your throat to interrupt whatever powwow Jungkook and Jimin have going on regarding your academic life. âWhat do you do now?âÂ
âSoftware development.â Jungkook almost seems surprised that you have an interest in his life. âStarted at a startup, but I just moved to a bigger company.â
âWhat kind of software?â you ask mindlessly, happy to have the attention finally off you.Â
âMobile apps. Some web development.â Jungkook shrugs like itâs nothing, but you catch the hint of pride in his tone. âNothing crazy.â
Jimin chimes in, eyes twinkling with mischief. âYou know, [Y/N] works in marketing for a tech company. You guys probably have tons in common now.â
You want to sink through the floor. Actuallyâscratch that. Sinking through the floor isnât enough. You need the floor to open up, swallow you whole, digest you, and then launch whatever remains into the sun.Â
You can see exactly what's happening here. You can see the gears turning in Jiminâs pretty little head. Heâs planning your wedding, probably picking out centerpieces. He thinks this whole encounter is fate, some kind of romantic star-crossed lovers nonsense where the nerd gets the girl who was too stupid to notice him the first time around.Â
Heâs going to be insufferable about this. Probably loop Taehyung into this delusion as well. There will be betting pools on when you finally hook up with Jungkook.Â
Whichâokay, fineâyou wouldnât be completely opposed to. Hypothetically. In theory.Â
âHowâs that going for you?â Jungkook turns to you.Â
âGood. Iâve been at my current company for a few years now. I just got promoted last year.â Your chest puffs out a little. Thereâs nothing you need to prove to him. But it doesnât hurt, especially as he validates your words with a slight nod in approval.Â
âThatâs awesome. Iâm happy for you.â
Not said with even an inch of malice.Â
âThank you.â You flip your hair over your shoulder. âSee, and I didnât even need math or chemistry to be successful.â
He chuckles. âFair enough.â
âI know how emotionally tolling it was to tutor me, so at least your efforts didnât go to waste,â you joke, and he cracks a smile at that, bunny teeth poking out.Â
âIt wasnât that emotionally tolling.â He shrugs, lifting his coffee to his lips. âIt was fun. Yâknow, when you werenât texting that guy you used to date.â
He maintains eye contact with you as he takes one, two sips, and you have to clench your thighs to ignore the second heartbeat thatâs beating in your vagina.Â
Jimin opens his mouthâprobably to ask approximately eight thousand invasive follow-up questions about your high school love lifeâbut his phone buzzes violently against the table, the vibration loud enough to rattle his fork.Â
Glancing down at his phone, his expression shifts from pure glee to actual panic. âShit, I need to head out. Taehyungâs making dinner and if Iâm late, heâs gonna put that weird purple pesto in it again.â
You raise an eyebrow. âPurple pesto?â
âYou know how he is, babe.â Jimin frantically flags down the waiter, motioning for the check.Â
You and Jimin always split Saturday brunch. Itâs a tradition, one that you donât plan on breaking. You reach for your wallet in your bag, prepared to pull out your trusty debit card.
But before you or Jimin can get too far, Jungkook smacks his AMEX Platinum card down like itâs nothing.Â
You blink at the shiny metal. âJimin and I alwaysââ
âIâve got it,â he says, all casual, like dropping 100,000 won on lunch for three people is normal for him.Â
To your left, Jimin has the biggest shit-eating grin of all time. âThanks, Jungkook. You donât have to do that.â
âItâs my treat. Itâs nice to run into old friends.â He tosses you a side glance when he says the word friends, because thatâs hardly what you two ever were.Â
Jiminâs phone buzzes again, and his eyes widen as they scan the new message. âOh no. No, no, no.âÂ
âWhat?!â You lean forward, trying to peek at his phone.Â
âYeontan threw up all over the new rug. Taehyung just sent me a picture, itâsâŠâ He makes a sour face. âI gotta go. Code red dog situation.â
âIs he okay?â you ask, because despite Jiminâs dramatics, that little ball of fur is your ray of sunshine.Â
âHeâs fine.â He stands, shrugging on his thin sweatshirt. âHe probably ate something he should have. This was great though! We should all hang out again soon!â
And then heâs sprinting out of the cafe, leaving you all alone at the table with none other than Jeon Jungkook.Â
If you didnât know better, youâd say Jimin planned this. Although, to be fair, you do know better, and he one hundred percent planned this. You're going to kill him. You're going to actually murder your best friend.
The waiter comes by, charging Jungkookâs card while you sit there awkwardly, twiddling your fingers. You donât know what to do with yourself, quite frankly.Â
âJimin isnât very subtle,â Jungkook says, signing the receipt and placing it aside.Â
âJimin doesnât do subtle.â You fidget with your napkin. âHe probably planned this.â
He quirks an eyebrow. âOh, really? You think so?â
âI know so. Heâs been trying to set me up with someone for months.â
Crossing his bulky arms over his chest, he leans back in his chair. âHowâs that working out for him?âÂ
âWell,â you begin, âConsidering the last attempt was one of his coworkers who turned out to be married, I would say pretty terrible.â
âJesus.âÂ
âIâm not really into the whole polyamory thing,â you joke.Â
Jungkook laughs and stands, and you follow suit, realizing how much taller he is than you. Not that he hasnât always been tall, but now he has the ego to match it.Â
âWant me to walk you to your car?â he asks.Â
You bashfully look down at your feet. In your years of living in Seoul, youâve never once been embarrassed about taking the bus before. The Korean bus system is efficient and better for the environment. But Jungkook, with his fancy tech job, probably has some sleek car that makes the bus system look like a clown car.Â
âI took the bus, actually.â
Immediately, without so much as a second thought, he goes, âIâll drive you home.â
âYou donât need toââ
âI know I donât need to.â He strolls towards the exit, holding the door open for you to glide through first. âI want to.â
Wait. Is he⊠is he flirting? That was definitely flirting, right?
If he is very specifically flirting with you, that means he either has a terrible memory or some kind of revenge plot in the works. Both options seem likely and panic-inducing.Â
When you finally get outside, the crisp afternoon air dances across your skin. The autumn leaves crunch beneath your feet. You keep a few inches for God between you and Jungkook, and he falls into a comfortable pace beside you, matching you.Â
His hands are nestled into his pockets, kicking leaves as he walks. Now that you two are alone, heâs returned to some of his old habits, like being quiet around you when thereâs nothing to fill the noise with.Â
âHow do you like your job?â he finally decides upon asking, and your head lifts to peer at him. Heâs gazing at you intently, clearly waiting for an answer.Â
âI like it. Most days, itâs creative, but we do a good amount of analytical work too.â
âWhy did you choose marketing?â He seems genuinely interested in your answer, which sends tingles down your spine. Itâs been a while since someone has cared enough to ask about your life beyond the standard two questions.Â
âWell, you know I suck at math,â you start, and he laughs at that. A deep sound that reverberates in his chest and makes your insides mushy. âI also hate science, so that wasnât an option. I like being creative, and Iâm a visual person. I took an intro class and it stuck.â
He nods, soaking it in. âWas college you the same as high school you?âÂ
You know what heâs asking. Was college you also the biggest bitch alive, or did you grow out of that phase?
âNah.â You shake your head. âIâm not as shallow⊠or annoying.â
He smiles. âGood to know.â
You reach his carâa black BMW that looks like it was ripped right off the set of Fifty Shades of Greyâand he unlocks it with a soft beep.Â
âYour car is nice,â you note, and his cheeks turn a soft pink at the compliment.Â
âThanks. I figured I should probably upgrade from the bus at some point.â He opens the passenger door for you, causing you to almost trip getting in at the sheer thoughtfulness.Â
You frown. âHey! I still take the bus.âÂ
He raises his hands up in surrender. âNot hating on the bus. I took that bad boy for years.â
Jungkook closes your door, rounding the car to the driver's seat and hopping in. the inside of the vehicle smells like leather, mixed with the faint scent of his cologne. Your brain canât help but go a little fuzzyâscents are your weakness. Any man who smells good deserves to get their dick sucked, period.Â
âAddress?â he asks, starting the engine.Â
You give it to him, and he inputs it into the GPS. Fifteen minutes, it spits back. Fifteen minutes in a car alone with Jeon Jungkook, the most confusing blast from your past.Â
Peeking over at him, you take his appearance in. His jaw is defined and sharp. Could probably cut glass on that thing. His nose juts out, big enough for you to wonder if heâs ever let a girl sit on his face. God, you really need to get laid. Youâve resorted to sexualizing the man you used to tease in high school like some kind of medieval man who just saw an ankle for the first time.Â
The guilt of your past sits heavy in your chest, but your body doesnât seem to care. It wants what it wants, ethics be damned.Â
You donât deserve to be this turned on by someone you treated like human furniture for two years. But here you are, wondering about the logistics of his face between your thighs, and maybe that makes you exactly as terrible as youâve always suspected.
Your eyes wander down to his biceps, down to his arms that are cluttered with tattoos. Different designs snake down his skin, some with color, and it takes all your might not to reach out and trace them. Fuck, now youâre thinking about his hands gripping the steering wheel. The veins. Those long fingersâÂ
âYou have a lot of tattoos,â you blurt out.Â
His eyes remain on the road, but his lips curl upwards. A little bit like a smirk. âI do.â
âWhen did you start getting them?â you wonder aloud.Â
âCollege. I started with one, but then I got addicted and kept going.â He glances at you for a second before turning his attention back to the road. âYou disapprove?âÂ
âNo! No, theyâre⊠they look good. Really good.â You want to die. âBut it is different from what I expected from you.â
His gaze hardens. âA lot of things are different from high school.âÂ
Silence fills the air as you two continue along the highway in the direction of your neighborhood. Your town is quaint, not too far outside of the main downtown area of Seoul. Itâs so peaceful that your neighbors are two elderly women who treat you like their daughter.Â
You wonder where Jungkook lives. If you had to guess, he probably lives in Gangnam, the upscale area in Seoul. Fancy tech job, fancy car⊠he must have a fancy house to match. Or a fancy girlfriend.Â
âDo you live near here?â you ask, hoping to sound as casual as possible. Although, realistically speaking, there is nothing casual about interrogating your ex-Chemistry tutor.Â
âNot too far. Iâm about ten minutes by car.â His grip loosens on the wheel a little. âNear Hannam-dong.â
So, you were kind of right. Hannam-dong, where all the celebrities and rich people live.
Before you can stop yourself, you say, âDo you live alone, orâŠ?â
Itâs possibly the least subtle question in the history of subtle questions, but you need to know.
Jungkookâs grip on the wheel tautens, and when you look over at him, thereâs a scarlet flash creeping up his neck. âIâyeah. Alone. Itâs just me.â
Is he⊠blushing?Â
âOh, cool.â You try not to sound too pleased by the information. âThatâs really cool. I mean, not cool that youâre alone if you donât want to be alone, but cool that you have your own space andâ yâknow, everything.âÂ
Nailed it.Â
âItâsâyeah, itâs good.â He clears his throat, and suddenly, you get a glimpse of the man you remember in high school. Less like the confident, macho guy from the cafe, and more like the boy who used to stumble over his words when you asked him questions. âNo one to, uh, bother me or anything. Not that having anyone would be bothering, I just meantâI live alone. No girlfriend orââ
He stops himself, like heâs just realized what heâs saying, and the flush spreads to the tip of his ears. Oh my god. Heâs flustered. Jeon Jungkook, with his tattoos and lip ring and his whole sexy confident energy, is flustered because you asked if he lives alone.
The ex-mean girl in you rises to the surface, bubbles in your throat. Itâs been a while since youâve activated her. Not since college, that one time when Park Eunji threatened your spot as sorority president. That version of you knew exactly what to do: touch his arm, squeeze once, watch him stutter. Make him want you so badly it hurts, then pull away. It's muscle memory, this kind of manipulation. You hate that it's still there, your instinct to weaponize attraction.
You want him to be nervous around you. Itâs a sick, twisted thought you have, and you donât know where it comes from, but you want it. âNo girlfriend,â you repeat, trying to hide your smile. Reaching out, you place a small hand on his bicep, squeeze once. His bicep is firm under your palm, and the second you make contact, you realize what you've done. That was flirting 101. High school you wouldâve done that without thinking twice, but current you? Current you doesnât have that kind of game anymore. Abort mission. Abort.Â
You yank your hand back to your lap like heâs made of volcanic ash.Â
âI didnâtâthatâs notââ He runs a hand through his locks, messing it up even more. âIâm just giving context about my living situation.â
âNo, I got it.â You keep your eyes trained on the road, even though your heart is doing somersaults in your chest. âThough, I have to admit, Iâm shocked.â
He gulps thickly. He pulls up to a red light, finally looking over at you directly. Thereâs vulnerability in his expression, polar opposite to his earlier reactions to you. âAre you making fun of me?â
Huh. You donât know why, but the fact that old, anxious Jungkook still lives somewhere deep within him makes your stomach backflip. âI would never,â you reply dramatically, waving your hand for emphasis. âIâm just speaking aloud.â
Jungkook hums at that, focusing his attention back onto the street. Itâs quiet again, if not for the sound of the engine purring and the awkward tension thatâs loitered in the car since you stepped inside.Â
He doesnât need to ask you anything else anyway, since Jimin did a good job of outing you as the most single girl in the history of single girls. He might as well have just admitted youâre a born again virgin.Â
The familiar road of your neighborhood looms ahead, and a pit of despair swallows your stomach whole. You really donât want to get out of the car that smells like him. It would be embarrassing how youâve begun to thirst over him, but after not getting laid in a while, youâre about ready to unzip your pants and jam your fingers in there.Â
âIs it the building up ahead?â he questions, pointing to the cream apartment complex that you reside in. You nod sweetly, smiling brightly. You dial up the olâ high school charm.Â
âThanks, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.â Another quick flutter of your lashes as he puts the car in park, taking a deep breath and angling his body to look at you.Â
âOf course. Anytime.â His face remains stoic, probably hoping to not look like you affect him anymore than you already have.
Your fingers land on the handle, pushing it open to let the brisk air in, replacing the suffocating tension in the car. âWell, I wish you the best. It was nice running into you today.âÂ
Maybe you should invite him to come up. Maybe you should invite him for a nightcap? Granted, it is midday and thereâs no actual alcohol in your home, but you can think of something real quick.Â
But he doesnât move toward you, or show any other inclination of interest. In fact, youâre feeling kind of slutty right about now. He probably thinks youâre some kind of embarrassing gold diggerâwhich like, yes, you might be. For him only.Â
Quietly, he says, âYou too,â and thatâs the end of that.Â
And just as youâre about to slam the passenger door shut and head upstairs to scream into your pillow, Jungkook abruptly speaks. â[Y/N].â
You whip around as fast as your body will let you. âYeah?âÂ
His big eyes twinkle under the sunlight rays reflecting on the car, two bunny teeth poking out as he sheepishly smiles. Youâre going to have fantasies about that mouth later.Â
âJust so you know, today wasnât planned. But Iâm really, really happy I ran into you.â
Huh Yunjinâs birthday bash has never been an easy feat. Every year, without fail, thereâs a table bought at an exclusive club, and your entire friend group blacks out within the hour. Youâre not sure how she gets away with it, but your love for her and mild fear of disappointing her clearly gets her very far.Â
Hence why youâre standing in a shopping mall at 3 PM, trying to decipher what makeup product she would like best. Her birthday gift needs to be top notch, because youâre up against Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, and those two have some kind of gaydar for gift-giving. Last year, Taehyung got her a vintage Chanel bag he âjust foundâ at a thrift store. The year before, Jimin surprised her with tickets to see Beyonce. Youâre operating at a disadvantage here.
You pick up another lipstick, eyeing the two intensely. A salesperson loiters over your shoulder, waiting to pounce at any given moment. In the end, you opt for a sleek red lip gloss, one that you know will pair well with her peachy skin. The relief that washes over you at finally securing her gift is endless.Â
Pushing past the doors of the shop, you blend into the rest of the mall-goers. Itâs pretty packed for an afternoon, but you figure it has something to do with the sales going on. 50% off for shoes⊠hm. Across the way, you see a sign for 25% off scarves, and you squint to try and make out the tiny writing. Buy one, get one freeâ
âOof!â
Your body collides into something firm, something warm. Itâs fleeting, and you jump back several feet, immediately armoring yourself with numerous apologies. âOh gosh, Iâm so sorry, I wasnât looking where I was goingââ
A deep chuckle. âIâm not mad about it.â
You know that voice. That voice has been haunting your wet dreams and your poorly-written mental fanfiction.
When you were ten, you got chosen to attend a unicorn retreat. It was a glorified horse camp, but it was five days of pure magic. Horses walking around with plastic horns on their head, offering unlimited rides to anyone who wanted one. Magical doesnât even feel like the proper word to describe it.Â
You thought that was the most enchanting moment of your life. But this⊠this rivals any stupid pony. This makes those ponies look like donkeys. In fact, with the luck youâve been given, you might rent a unicorn and a castle.Â
In front of you stands Jeon Jungkook, looking somehow more scrumptious than he did a few days ago. Defying the damn laws of hotness. Youâd spent a good few hours tossing and turning in bed, dreaming about his lips, his eyes, his veiny hands. He looks like he stepped straight out of your wet dream, adorned in a zip-up sweatshirt and black t-shirt, fluffy hair askew.Â
His eyes still carry that same twinkle from the last time you saw him, and you wonder if theyâre like this all the time, or if it's just for you.Â
âHi,â you exhale breathily.Â
âHello.â He smiles at you, and itâs sweet, just a little dopey, and so decidedly adorable that you want to gnaw on his cheeks like a dog with a chew toy. âMust be my lucky day to run into you again.â
âClearly.â He is flirting. Sure, there were doubts in your mind before this, but anyone who says those kinds of things, is someone who wants to be balls deep inside you. âI donât normally treat pedestrians like bumper cars, though.â
Jungkook laughs at that, a melodic sound that sends vibrations from your head to your toes. âIf I was a better man, I mightâve moved out of the way to make room for you.â
âWell, then I guess itâs my lucky day youâve decided to not be a better man,â you counter, and he takes a step closer to you, allowing the people behind him to filter around. A mom of three tosses him an evil glare, but you could care less.Â
âI was actually hoping to talk to you again so I could ask you a question.â His eyes bore into you, the eye contact making the walls of your vagina contract incessantly. His confidence from the cafe has returned with a vengeance, and youâre not sure whatâs gotten into him, but you hope it never leaves.Â
âI might have an answer,â you tease.Â
His lips quirk upwards into a soft smirk, one that would normally disgust you but doesnât whatsoever. âI was thinking you and I should get dinner sometime. Maybe catch up one-on-one.â
If this were a game of tennis, you just won match point. He served, you returned, and now the ballâs sitting in his court while he watches it roll away. Checkmate. Victory. Crowd goes berzerk.Â
But you know how to play this game. Even though youâre a little out of commission, you still invented half the rules in high school. And rule number one: never let them see you sweat. Rule number two: make them work for it.Â
Tilting your head, you pretend to consider it like you havenât thought about what underwear you would wear to this hypothetical one-on-one time. âMaybe,â you say, drawing out the syllables. âIâll have to check my calendar.âÂ
Your calendar is wide open. Your calendar has been wide open for months. Your calendar is begging for plans. Your calendar is weeping with joy at the possibility of having something on it besides âtherapy 2 PMâ and âdonât forget your lexapro.â
But hereâs the thing: if you say yes immediately, if you're too eager, too easy, heâll figure it out. He'll realize you're still that girl who only wants things because they're shiny and new, who gets bored the second the chase is over. Except this time, the thing you want isnât a spot on the homecoming court or the captain of the basketball teamâs attentionâitâs him.Â
âMaybe?â Heâs grinning now, full teeth, like heâs finally been let in on how the game works. âI pour my heart out and I get a maybe?âÂ
âYou didnât pour your heart out. You asked to get dinner.â
He scoffs, âSame thing.â
âNot even remotely close, lover boy.â You migrate an inch backwards, so miniscule he hardly notices.
Something flickers across his face at the nicknameâamusement, or something darker, more interested. His eyes track your movements like a predator watching prey.Â
âI feel like youâre just testing fate at this point,â he jokes. You can see the gears turning in his head, shifting and transforming to try and get to his end goal: you.Â
âItâs worked once before already.â You shrug, taking a few more steps back.Â
âAlright, well, can I at least get your number? Not really feeling like leaving it all up to the universe.â The color drains from his face slowly as he realizes youâre really, truly, going to walk away. His voice raises a little at the end of the sentence.Â
âIâll see you around, Jungkook.â
With that, you turn on your heel, bags in tow, and make your way towards the exit of the mall with what you hope exudes confidence, and not like someone whoâs about to sprint outside and scream into the void. His eyes burn into your back the entire way. Donât turn around. Youâre doing so well. Youâre a mysterious enigma. Youâre unattainable.Â
You trip over your own two feet and have to do some weird stumble-hop recovery move just so you donât eat shit in the middle of the mall. Â
Okay, so maybe not entirely mysterious. But you do make it outside with a goofy grin on your face, caught in some kind of daze, all because your ex-Chemistry tutor has made it abundantly clear he wants to see you again.Â
The following Saturday, you and Jimin cozy up at a nearby cafeâa different one than last weekâs. You suggested it over text a few days ago, after you had run into Jungkook, because there was some perverse thrill to testing fate and the universeâs weird way of working. Jimin, who could care less where he got his cup of coffee, agreed with a shrug of his shoulders.Â
âSo, tell me again why you didnât give him your number,â Jimin furrows his brows, picking at his limp salad in disgust. Heâs trying this new diet that only allows for 1000 calories a day, and itâs made him even more judgmental than usual. âWalk me through your thought process here.â
You sigh. âJiminie, I told you already. Iâm playing the game.â
âThe game⊠I hate straight people.â
âHey, you did the same thing with Tae when you guys first started out,â you frown, taking a prolonged sip of your iced latte. Senior year, Jimin refused to see Taehyung more than once a week in fear of seeming too desperate and clingy, even though he texted him every five minutes anyway.Â
Jimin lets out a long-suffering sigh, pushing the soggy lettuce into the corner of his plate. âTae and I are different. Weâre homosexuals. Thereâs no rules when society already hates you anyway. But you are playing a dangerous game with him.â
Rolling your eyes, you scoff. âIâm not. Iâm playing hard to get.â
âHow do you know he wonât get bored?â Itâs an innocent question that, when asked, makes you want to bash your head into a concrete wall. âI mean, youâve seen the guy. He probably has a roster of girls throwing their phone number at him.â
You pause mid-sip, straw frozen against your lips. You⊠hadnât actually thought about it like that. In your mind, this whole thing has been about you trying to regain an inch of the upper hand, about making Mr. Cocky work for it. But Jimin's rightâJungkook isnât the same nerdy kid who would wait around forever for a crumb of your attention. Youâre also not the cheerleader that everybodyâs dying to get their hands on. He could have anyone, and yet his sights are set on you (or well, as far as you know).
âThen I guess weâll just have to see how into me he is.â You shrug, but no ounce of you feels calm.Â
Jimin quirks an eyebrow. âReally? Off of one conversation after ten years, heâs supposed to be magically in love with you?âÂ
âOkay, first of all, it was two conversations, and second of all, do you have no faith in your hot and sexy best friend?â You swish your hair for good measure, but Jimin doesnât buy it for a second. Your charms have no effect on his gay self.Â
âI do have faith in you. However, I canât recall the last time youâve successfully kept a guy around after the first kissâŠâ he trails off, pretending to count on his fingers. You gasp, appalled by the insinuation.Â
âPark Jimin,â you scold. He bursts into a fit of laughter, wiping faux tears from his eyes, and you really canât help but follow suit at the hysterics of it all. âYouâre the worst.â
âIâm honest, babe,â he says through another fit of giggles. âYou hate to see it.â
âJimin? [Y/N]?âÂ
The laughter dies down within a millisecond. Somewhere in the distance, you swear you hear a record scratching.Â
Tentatively, you crane your neck upwards. Lo and behold, Jeon Jungkook stands before your table, holding an iced coffee and looking between you and Jimin in bewilderment. He must have a tracker planted inside you, because although you had daydreamed about this scenario approximately ten times in the past few days, never did you actually think it would come to fruition.Â
âWhy are you here?â you blurt, and Jimin throws you a glare, facepalming. You slap a hand over your mouth. You have the sudden, embarrassing, debilitating urge to vomit.Â
Jungkook laughs, and you notice the tip of his ears turning pink. âI could ask you the same thing. This is my regular spot.â
âThis isââ You glance around the cafe, like the answer will appear written in invisible ink. âSince when?âÂ
âSince I moved to the area?â Heâs donning a massive grin now, one that lights up his entire face.Â
Your face falls flat. In your frantic search for a new cafe, you neglected the fact that the new spot you selected is located in Hannam-dong. Exactly where he told you he lived last week.Â
Jiminâs completely forgotten his salad, jumping in to save you from the depths of shame. âJungkook! Join us.â Heâs already pulling out an empty chair before he can protest.Â
Jungkook shakes his head, the hoop earrings in his ear moving with him. âI donât want to interruptââ
âDonât be silly,â Jimin retorts quickly, shooting you a look that both screams: youâre an idiot and this is fate knocking at your door. âCome, sit here.â
Jungkook hesitantly sets his drink down, sitting down in the chair. âSo, what were you guys laughing at before?âÂ
You blink a few times, utterly speechless. Thereâs no universe in which you admit to Jungkook what you two were discussing before his appearance.Â
âNothing crazy,â Jimin starts, and he has this glint in his eyes he only gets when heâs about to do something so diabolically crazy youâll have to second-guess your friendship. âShe was just telling me about this guy sheâs playing hard to get with. Real shame, honestly. He sounds great.â
What the fuck is going on? you ask yourself silently. Your mind is shooting blanks.Â
Jimin sips his water nonchalantly as if he didnât just throw you under the bus.Â
You finally muster up the courage to speak. âJiminâs being crazy,â you say, trying to recover some dignity. âThereâs no guy.â
âReally?â Jungkookâs smirk is unrattled. âAt the mall, you said you had to check your calendar. It sounds like youâre pretty busy.â
Oh, he wants to play this game. Â
âI am busy.â You lift your chin in defiance.Â
âDoing what?â Jimin chimes in. After this lunch date, heâs lucky if you ever respond to one of his texts ever again. âYou texted me yesterday saying you were bored.â
âI hope you die, Park Jimin,â you mutter.
He turns to Jungkook, a conspiratorial grin plastered on his face. âSheâs playing hard to get. I told her it's a terrible strategy, but does she listen? No.â
Jungkookâs eyes donât waver from your face. âHard to get, huh?âÂ
âThat is not what Iâm doing,â you huff, even though thatâs exactly what youâre doing, and all parties present at the table know it.
âNo, it makes sense.â Jungkook nods, leaning forward in his chair. âAfter all, you have that busy calendar⊠you know, the one you need to check.â
âExactly,â you agree.Â
âAnd have you? Checked it, I mean?â
You stare blankly at him.Â
âIâve been meaning to.â
âMm,â Jungkook hums, sipping his coffee. The white t-shirt and grey sweatpants combo heâs wearing today makes you feel like a rabid animal whoâs been deprived of food for too long. âWhoâs the lucky man?âÂ
âGet this,â Jimin jumps in eagerly. âShe met him at the mall.â
âThe mall?â Jungkook asks incredulously, dropping his chin into his open palm.Â
âAnd she didnât even give him her number.â Jimin continues this charade as if youâre not even sitting there. Which, you really wish you werenât. In fact, you might just bury yourself six feet under this cafe after everythingâs said and done.Â
âWow,â Jungkook tuts. âI hope that guy gets her number somehow.â
âSeems like a long shot.â You shrug, fiddling with your straw.Â
âRight. I mean, we canât forget about fate, because fateâs probably working in that guyâs favor.â
It hits you square in the chest, that Jungkook really does know exactly what heâs done, that he is perfectly aware of the effect he has on you.Â
ââThere's a pause. A long pause. Jimin is grinning like the Cheshire cat, and you're seriously considering faking a medical emergency.
Jungkookâs biceps strain against his shirt, tongue darting out to play with his lip ring. âYou know what I think?â His voice drops several octaves, low enough for you and Jimin to hear. âI think this guy should just show up at your door. Skip all the games.â
âThat would be weird,â you quip.Â
âWould it?â Tilting his head, Jungkook observes you. Feels like heâs seeing right through you with x-ray goggles. âEven if youâve been thinking about him too?âÂ
Youâre painfully aware of how close he is, how his knee is almost touching yours under the table, how his eyes keep dropping to your lips. Your brain is short-circuiting. You canât think, canât breathe, canât do anything except stare at him and wonder what would happen if you just gave in.
âThereâs rules to be followed,â you finally mumble.Â
âRules for what?â Jimin snorts.Â
In hindsight, that probably wasnât the smartest excuse you couldâve conjured up. No one seems to understand the dying art of playing hard to get anymore.Â
But, really, it was only a matter of time before you lost your temper and threw in the towel. You were never good at winning anything besides cheerleader championships, anyway. âThe game, Jimin. The fucking game I explained to you already. Just so weâre all clear, by the way, I was trying to enjoy my lunch before you two decided to gang up on me, so thank you both very much.â
Jimin and Jungkook deadpan, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.Â
Embarrassment courses through your veins, choking your throat. Itâs not like you meant to have an outburst and openly admit youâre playing the game with Jeon Jungkook, a man who you used to ignore as if he were invisible. Sometimes a girl gets sexually frustrated and it manifests in interesting ways.Â
âIâm going to the bathroom,â you grumble. You speed-walk as fast as your legs will take you, all the way to the restroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and plopping down on the toilet. You canât pinpoint why youâre suddenly overcome with some silly desire to win this âgameâ you conjured up in your head, why you wonât just give in to what he so clearly wants to offer you.Â
But maybeâand you donât want to admit itâthereâs a residual guilt that lives deep inside you. One that when you really face, reminds you of just how cruel you were to others in high school. There was a time in your teenage life where you thought being the queen bee of high school meant you were at the apex of the universe. Now that the tables have turned, and youâre not as big as you once were, maybe you donât deserve what the universe is trying to offer you.Â
Maybe you don't deserve what Jeon Jungkook is trying to offer you. Â
Itâs Sunday, but itâs hardly peaceful or restorative. Saturday night was spent partying with Yunjin and Chaewon at some club in Gangnam that served drinks comparable to battery acid, which is why youâre currently battling the worst hangover of your entire life. Your head is pounding so hard you can hear your heartbeat in your eyeballs. And you're pretty sure you're still drunk, which means the real hangover hasn't even hit yet.Â
Thereâs no one to blame but yourself. Your brain was a broken record last night: Jungkook, high school, the game. The only way to stop the endless loop was to wash it down with copious soju shots.
Groggily, you roll over and unplug your phone from the charger. A quick scroll through your missed notifications and itâs the usual suspects: Jimin, Yunjin, TaehyungâŠ
Wait.Â
Your eyes squint into slits, trying to make sense of the unknown number that sent you one message at 8 AM. You donât recognize it. Spam, probably. Or maybe someone from last night asking if you got home okay. You donât remember giving your number to anyone, but then again, you don't remember much after midnight.
You unlock your phone, rub your eyes, and adjust to the bright white light of your messages.Â
+823137565798 waited ten years to run into you again, [Y/N]. im not really interested in waiting another ten to see if fate brings us together a fourth time
It doesnât take much time for you to put together the puzzle pieces.Â
You gasp, nearly flinging yourself off your bed at the realization. You reread the message one, two, three times, just to confirm he really said your name in it. You try to do a little excited kick under your covers, but your legs are tangled in your sheets and you nearly fall off the bed.
After yesterdayâs temper tantrum, you had exited the bathroom to see Jeon Jungkook no longer present at the table. Jimin shrugged, said âhe was tired, so he went home,â and that was the end of that. You were under the impression that you ruined the entire charade, that you wouldnât have to worry about the game because you already lost anyway.Â
But here he is, in your messages, contradicting your worst fears.Â
you whoâs this?
Squealing, you throw your phone to the side, but within a few seconds, it lights up again with a new message.Â
+823137565798 wild guess?
you my amazon package?
You snort as you watch him read it and begin typing.Â
+823137565798 close. even betterÂ
An unwarranted smile sneaks its way onto your face.Â
you enlighten me
+823137565798 itâs your ex chemistry tutor from high school. that weird dudeÂ
you weird dude is how youâre choosing to introduce yourself?
+823137565798 trying to be humbleÂ
+823137565798 so about yesterday
Your hangover creeps back into your skull, your head pounding to the beat of a drum.
you we donât need to talk about yesterday
+823137565798 why not?
you because i embarrassed myself?
+823137565798 you didnât. thought it was cute
+823137565798 may have also told your best friend i needed your number in the name of saving you from your drought, so youâre not the one who embarrassed themselvesÂ
Staring at the message, your alcohol-riddled brain struggles to make sense of the words in front of you. Heat spreads from your chest to your neck to your cheeks. The guilt tries to claw its way upâyou donât get to feel this giddy, not about himâbut your body overrules it with a decisive vote. Your hangover is completely forgotten now, replaced by a warm flutter in your stomach that has nothing to do with last night's tequila.
Itâs so unlike him, the polar opposite of what Jeon Jungkook used to evoke in you, but the mere thought of him ending your sex drought sends a tingle down your spine.Â
Youâre grinning like a foolish schoolgirl now, dignity be damned. You save his number to your contacts, makes it official in your brain.Â
you are you offering to get me out of my drought?Â
You fling your phone to the opposite side of the bed, and scream into your pillow.Â
The buzz causes you to shoot back up, heart thumping in your throat as you read his response.Â
jungkook possiblyÂ
Somewhere in the sky, your guardian angel is doing backflips.Â
Hands shaking, heart pumping blood erratically, you type back:
you take a girl to dinner first
The three dots pop up almost immediately, and then:Â
jungkook tried that already. the girl ran away from me :/Â
Technically, heâs right. You did run away. And now heâs resorted to joking about it, like it doesnât bother him. But it should bother him. Should annoy him that the girl who didnât acknowledge his existence in high school is now playing games with him like she has any right to.Â
You donât know how to let him be nice to you, how to let him want you, when all you can remember is a younger you rolling your eyes while he patiently explained molecular bonds. You were cruel. Mostly in small ways that probably hurt more than massive shows of dismissiveness, but harsh nonetheless.Â
Guilt sits burdensome in your chest, a thorn in your side. Deep down, youâre terrified that when he finally sees you clearlyâreally sees you, not the filtered version you're trying to presentâheâll realize what you already know. That you were never worth the wait.
Your fingers loom over the keyboard, twiddling. The guilt is there, always there, always a dark cloud hanging. You were cruel to him. Casual about it, even. Used him like a tool and never once considered that he was a person with feelings that could be hurt.
But maybeâand this is the thought that's been needling at you since the cafeâmaybe the worst thing you could do now is waste his second chance on you by playing games. Maybe the cruelest thing would be pretending you donât want this when you so obviously, desperately do.
On the one hand, honesty is terrifying and vulnerability makes you nauseous.Â
But, on the other handâŠ
you well maybe the girl wants to see if youâre full of shit or notÂ
Your heart speeds up behind the confines of your ribs.Â
jungkook iâm not the same guy from high school. i donât play about what i wantÂ
With bated breath, you type your response. Itâs a question that you know the answer to, and you donât know why you need him to say it, but he will anyway.Â
you and what is it that you want?
jungkook you.Â
The night of Huh Yunjinâs birthday creeps up slowly on you, amidst a week busied with work, adult errands, and most stupidly, thoughts of Jungkook. The thoughts of him play, pause, tape spooling, and then rewind on a constant loop, unrelenting in their nature.Â
You hadnât spoken to him much after your last exchange, minus some âgood morningâ texts from him that you responded to politely. Itâs foreplay, if nothing else, because even a few words from him are enough to leave you giddy for days to come.Â
You fully intend to take him up on his offer, you just donât know when. .Â
Sinkhole is packed to the brim, sweaty bodies colliding in an attempt to feel human intimacy. A disco ball hangs loosely from the ceiling, transmitting silver light across the dance floor. The DJ is spinning up cringy Top 40 hits you havenât heard since college, but the amount of soju shots youâve consumed within the past hour masks the embarrassment you feel.Â
âCheers to my 28th!â Yunjin yells in your ear, raising her shot glass in the air. Jimin abandons making out with Taehyung in favor of lifting his shot glass with hers, and you canât help but join in on the festivities.Â
Yunjin keeps toasting to things that get progressively more unhinged. âTo being 28! then âTo my IUD!â then âTo tax evasion!âÂ
You're not sure she's even joking on that last one.Â
Youâve lost count of how many youâve taken, but the liquor burns less with each passing shot.Â
âHappy birthday, baby!â Jimin leans over the table youâre all perched at, pressing a chaste kiss to Yunjinâs cheek. She giggles in delight, smiling brightly in the way only a drunk person could.Â
âOh, why thank you, Jiminie,â she laughs. âAnd thank you, Tae and [Y/N] for buying the table!â
It was 75% Taehyung and 25% you, but youâll accept her gratitude. Buying a table at the club with unlimited alcohol was also part of your master plan to get absolutely obliterated and halt all thoughts of Jungkook, at least for the night.Â
â[Y/N], we need to find you a hot guy tonight. That dress is doing insane things to your legs,â Yunjin whines, pushing your shoulder. âThereâs soooo many boys here.â
Jimin and Taehyung share a meaningful look, one that you donât miss. Rolling your eyes, you say, âIâm not looking for anyone tonight. I want to spend it with you.â
âBooooring.â She pokes your side, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of Usher. âIf you ditch me on my birthday to fuck a hot dude, I wonât be mad.â
âBut I donât want to fuck a hot dudeââ
Jimin clears his throat. âWell, actually, you do. Heâs just not here right now.â
There goes your vow to ignore all Jungkook thoughts this evening.Â
âJimin.â
âWhat? Itâs true,â he giggles, cozying up into Taehyungâs side. âThe guy practically sexted you last weekend.â
Feeling caught, you busy yourself with the hem of your black bodycon dress. âWhether I fuck him or not is nobodyâs business but my own,â you mumble.Â
âOh, please,â Taehyung rolls his eyes. âYouâve been needing to get laid for months. Weâre your best friends, which makes it our business.â
âSheâs just upset that she ignored him in high school and now heâs this big, hunky guy,â Jimin snickers.Â
Taehyung frowns. âBigger than me?âÂ
âOkay, enough,â you snap, pouring more soju into the empty shot glasses. âI just wanna get drunk and enjoy my night.â
âIâm sure you would enjoy your night more if you had a big, sexy man to take care of you. I know I would,â Jimin chuckles. Not in a mean way, but your heart does sink a little as you watch him give Taehyung an open-mouthed kiss.Â
Yunjin turns to you. âWhy havenât you fucked him?âÂ
You donât know when this became an intervention, but everyone seems arduously interested on whether or not you fuck Jeon Jungkook.Â
You shrug. âI donât know. Itâs not that I donât want toâtrust me, I doâI just⊠feel a little bad about how I treated him in high school.â
Your friend snorts, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smile playing upon her lips. âIf he felt bad about how you treated him, he wouldnât be pursuing you.â
âSheâs right,â Jimin jumps back in, and you fight the urge to slam his head into the table. He picks up a soju shot. âItâs kinda cute how desperate he seems for your attention. Thatâs a guy whoâs gonna eat you out like his life depends on it.â
The mental image of his moist, plump lips wrapping around your clit has your thighs trembling under the table, but you clamp them before anyone can notice.Â
âIâm gonna fuck him,â you promise. âI swear.â
Taehyung raises an eyebrow. âI hope you do, before someone else snatches you up.â He tilts his head in the direction of a man eye-fucking you, and your stomach queases.Â
âHeâs cute,â Jimin takes his shot, and you follow suit. Thereâs no way youâre getting through this night without getting absolutely obliterated.Â
âOooo, thereâs a really cute guy over there. 12:00,â Yunjin leans into the group, whispering as lowly as she can over the sound of Kesha.Â
You refuse the desire to look. Taehyung, however, lets his eyes wander to who sheâs talking about. Luckily, Jimin is too entranced by pouring himself another soju shot to care. âOh fuck me. Heâs fucking sexy. I would let that man give me a rimjob.âÂ
You slump into the chair. Somehow you have a feeling youâre about to undergo the worldâs least subtle setup.Â
Jiminâs eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull. Slowly, he angles his body to see who his boyfriend is talking about. âHe canât possibly be that hotâoh my god. Oh my god.â
âWhat?â you and Yunjin say in unison. If you had to guess, based on Jiminâs track record and the specific tone of that âoh my god,â heâs either spotted a celebrity, a firefighter in uniform, or someone from his legendary whore phase. And given that youâre at a nightclub, you're betting on option three. Jiminâs whore phase is the stuff of legendâa six-month period during sophomore year where he worked his way through half of Seoul's gay club scene. He doesn't talk about it often, mostly because Taehyung gets a very specific look on his face when it comes up, but every once in a while someone from that era will resurface and Jimin will make that exact noise.
âWho is it?â you press on, heart thumping in excitement.Â
Jiminâs blonde hair sways as he turns to look back at you. âOkay, donât panic.âÂ
Furrowing your brows, you start, âDonâtââ
âThatâs Jungkook, you idiots. The fucking guy from [Y/N]âs high school weâve been talking about,â he says in a hushed tone, punching Taehyungâs shoulder.Â
Thereâs a warm feeling hugging your chest, your body feeling as though itâs been lit on fire. It might be the alcohol, or the sheer joke of it all. Out of all the scenarios youâve conjured up in your daydreams, this wasnât one of them.Â
You turn your body to track where your friendâs eyes were just a minute ago. Even though Jimin already confirmed it, thereâs a tiny part of you hoping his eyes deceive him. But there he is, Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, talking to one of his equally attractive friends. Heâs wearing all blackâblack t-shirt that sculpts his biceps, black baggy jeans that sit tightly on his slim waist. His hair is ruffled, hoop earrings dangling from the holes in his ear. And really, the most sickening part of it all: he has two lip rings instead of the usual one. Youâre gonna be sick.
âEarth to [Y/N]...â Yunjin waves a shot in front of your face, and without preamble, you take it from her, swallowing it in one easy sip. The alcohol travels down your throat, but you barely feel the burn.Â
âYou good?â Taehyung raises an eyebrow.Â
âJust peachy,â you lie. You smile at your friends, but they donât seem convinced.Â
Jimin guffaws, leaning back in his chair with an evil grin. âIs that why you just downed another shot?â
âIâm thirsty.â
âFor alcohol or for Jungkook?â Yunjin bursts into a fit of giggles, high-fiving Jimin across the table.Â
Groaning, you let your head fall into your hands. âI hope all of you die a slow and painful death.â
âHeâs gotten even hotter since the last time I saw him,â Jimin notes, sipping his untouched margarita. âHow is that possible?â
âCan we please talk about anything else?â You reach for the soju bottle, pouring the last of the clear liquid into your glass. Your second in thirty seconds. A new personal record.
âWe will do no such thing,â Jiminâs eyes are gleaming with elation. âYou need to go talk to him.â
You nearly choke on the liquor. âIâm sorry, what?âÂ
âGo. Talk. To. Him.â Jimin enunciates each word like youâre a toddler.Â
âAre you insane?â you deadpan. âLike, actually stupid? Have you suffered a brain injury I donât know about?â
Both Jimin and Taehyung share another unspoken look. âIâm trying to help you.âÂ
âBut I donât want helpââ
â[Y/N].â Jimin doesnât often get very serious, but the expression on his face makes you squirm. âIâm not letting you fuck this up.â
âI;m not fucking anything up by staying exactly where I am.â You cross your arms over your chest. Realistically, you know heâs right. If you were more drunk, maybe you would bite the bullet, march over there, and plant a kiss right on those lips you havenât stopped thinking about. But youâre not, so at the table you will stay.Â
âThis is fate. This is the universe putting him a few feet away.â Jimin gestures vaguely at Jungkook.Â
âThe universe can fuck off, honestly.â
He sighs, âIâm doing this for your own good.â
And before you can process his movements, a lag in your brain, Jimin turns in his seat, arm raising in a wave, mouth opening to call out his name.Â
âNo!â You lunge across the table, knocking over Taehyungâs drink, causing him to groan. You latch onto Jiminâs arm, yanking it down forcefully. âDonât you fucking dare, Park Jiminââ
Itâs too late.Â
Because in your desperate scramble to stop Jimin from committing social suicide on your behalf, you've made a scene. Swiveling your head slowly, you see Jungkook staring directly at you.Â
His eyebrows are raised, a hint of a smirk playing upon his lips. His tattooed fingers toy with the straw in his drink. It feels as though time drags on for hours, as if the hands of a clock are being lugged through molasses.Â
You slowly extract yourself from on top of the table, slinking into your chair with as much dignity as you can muster. Your hand comes up in the worldâs most awkward, tentative wave. The tiniest flutter of your fingers.Â
Jungkookâs lips stretch wider, raising his hand in return. Itâs a proper wave, filled with that newfound confidence of his. Then he turns back to his friend, resuming their conversation. Itâs not like you expected him to drop everything for youâor well, you kind of did. You exhale a deep breath. âOh my god.â You slump in your chair. âThat was horrible.â
âThat was⊠bad,â Jimin tiptoes around the word, twiddling his thumbs.Â
âIâm going to have to fake my death and move to a different countryââ
âStop being a drama queen,â Yunjin cuts in, sliding a shot towards you. You donât even know or care where it spawned from, but all you know is you need it. âHe waved back. He probably thought it was cute.â
Sighing, you shake your head. âThere is nothing cute about what just happened.â You down the shot, and youâve completely lost count at this point of how many youâve ingested.Â
âOkay, new plan,â you announce, slamming the glass down. âNone of that happened. We enjoy Yunjinâs birthday. We do not make eye contact with Jungkook, we do not speak about Jungkook.â
âYeah, about that,â Jimin trails off, eyes glued to somewhere behind your shoulder. âItâs too late.â
âToo late for what?âÂ
âHeâs coming over here.â
Your entire body halts all movement, rigid like a statue. âWhat?â
âHeâs coming here. Right now,â Taehyung repeats, and your heart drops to your feet. A hornetâs nest of anxiety swarms your stomach, filling your body with buzzing fear.Â
You shake your head frantically. âPlease say youâre messing with me.â
Yunjin turns to see where Jimin and Taehyung are staring, and the moment she touches your arm, you realize youâre trapped. Thereâs no way out but through.Â
â[Y/N]. Itâs nice to see you here.âÂ
His voice is deeper, a low timbre that makes your brain go all fuzzy around the edges. He stands in front of the table, and you peer through your eyelashes to look up at him.Â
Fuck. Fuck, he looks even better up close.Â
The two lip rings catch the light of the disco ball. A silver chain dangles from around his neck and you briefly wonder what itâll look like hanging over you while he pounds intoâŠGod, get a grip. You can catch a whiff of his cologne, something citrusy and woodsy that causes a pool of arousal in your underwear.
âHi,â you manage a smile, struggling to hold the intense gaze heâs sporting.Â
He breaks it for a moment, turning to your best friend, nodding. âJimin, good to see you again.â
âYou too, Kook. You should join us!â He scooches closer to Taehyung, patting the minimal space beside him. Jungkook stares at it, then looks back at you with a hunger in his eyes that almost has you keeling over.Â
âActually,â Jungkook begins, âI was hoping I could steal [Y/N] for a drink. If thatâs okay with you all?â
He wants to... what? Steal you? For a drink? Alone? You turn to Yunjin, eyes pleading. Help me. Save me. Make up an excuse. But she was never going to let you escape where heâs involved. She looks you dead in the eye, smiles sweetly, and says, âNo, sheâs all yours.â
Youâre going to remember this. Youâre going to bring this up at every possible opportunity for the rest of her natural life.
Jungkookâs hand extends towards you, palm up, awaiting yours. For a brief second, you stare at it, at his long fingers, at the veins running down his forearm, at the silver rings stacked on his nimble fingers. The hand that's now being offered to you, in public, in front of all your friends.
You can either take his hand and let whatever this is happen, or you can make up some excuse and run away for the fourth time.
Your heart starts cartwheeling in your chest. You canât look away from his hand, the one you desperately want to take. Jungkook watches patiently, confidently, like he knows just what youâre deciding between.Â
Fuck it.Â
You place your hand in his, let your fingers intertwine with his warm ones. Itâs secure, and his fingers tighten around yours as if to remind you he has you. Jungkook pulls you to your feet gently. He doesnât let go as he guides you through the crowd toward the bar, and youâre trying very hard not to think about how right it feels, how you never want him to let you go.Â
He parks you at the bartop, where a woman who looks like sheâd rather be anywhere else is serving alcohol to a group of minors. Jungkook pats the stool beside him, and youâre more than grateful to take the chair. Your heels have been hurting like a bitch all night. When you sink into the chair, his eyes follow the way your dress hugs your thighs, revealing more skin than your old cheer uniforms. You debate tugging it down, but a warm feeling is flooding your insides at the thought of him wanting to see more of you. He towers above you, his AMEX hanging loosely from his deft fingers.Â
âWhat do you like to drink?â He leans down, whispers it directly in your ear. The heat of his breath makes your entire body feel like molten lava.Â
The bartender begins to make her way over, eyes gleaming when she spots Jungkook. If you were less tipsy, you might come up with a witty response, but your current state only allows you to say, âA dirty shirley, please.âÂ
He doesnât make a face at the girly drink, nor bats an eyelash when the bartender touches his arm four times while he recites his order. You can only watch in awe as he hands over his card and turns his attention back to you, body angling toward you as if to shield you from every other patron who might be able to see you. The slight possessiveness heâs exhibiting would normally make you hurl, but heâs so unapologetic about it that you could care less. You hope he puts his mark on you so no man will ever speak to you again.Â
Jungkook fiddles with his fingers on the counter, unsure where to put them. The only glimpse of high school Jungkook youâve seen in days. His hand hovers near your thigh, then his jeans pocket, then back to the counter. For all his cockiness over text and possessiveness, still lies a man whoâs intimidated by the thought of truly having you.Â
The soju in your body hums through your veins, making everything feel hazy and like a really good idea. Liquid courage, Yunjin calls it. Liquid stupidity, sounds more precise.Â
But right now⊠youâre thinking liquid courage might be onto something.Â
Because heâs standing so close you can smell his cologne, something that smells like grapefruit and lemon. Because he angled his body to block out the rest of the bar like youâre the only person here. Because his hand is right there, inches from you, and looks like he wants to touch you so badly itâs causing him physical pain.Â
And youâre tipsy enough to think: yeah, liquid courage is real.Â
Before the sober, anxious part of your brain can intervene with a thousand reasons why this is a horrible idea, you reach out. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, and his eyes snap to yours, surprise written across his features.Â
You donât utter a word, just simply guide his hand until his palm settles at the small of your back. Every place where his skin connects with yours seems to tingle.Â
âIs this okay?â he asks, voice low and chest rumbling with the sound. Again, his mouth is right by your ear, and you canât think, canât breathe, can't hear anything but him.Â
âWould I have moved it there if I wasnât?âÂ
His thumb strokes once against your side. âJust making sure.âÂ
âIâm tipsy, not drunk,â you clarify, only because you need him to know this is a choice. This is something you tried to talk yourself out of over and over again, but you want this. Liquid courage is making you brave enough to admit out loud what you only ever thought to yourself sober. âI know what Iâm doing.âÂ
âAnd what are you doing?â His breath hits your cheek, the side of your mouth, and itâs laced with peppermint and whiskey, and youâre dizzy with need.Â
âGiving you the green light,â you say, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are hooded, trained on your lips that are coated in shiny gloss. âThat okay with you?âÂ
His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you incrementally closer. He doesnât need to say anything.Â
âVery okay,â he murmurs into your hair.Â
The bartender returns with your drinks, but Jungkook doesnât move his hand. He takes your dirty shirley with his free hand, passing it off to you. His grip becomes more secure, more selfish, like now that youâve given him permission, heâs never planning on letting go.Â
Good, you think. You donât want him to.Â
Jungkookâs hand wraps around the glass of whiskey, taking a slow sip. âSeems like fate was on my side tonight.âÂ
You take a gulp of your dirty shirley, the sweetness coating your tongue. âIâm starting to think you might be stalking me.âÂ
His eyebrows raise, a tiny upward twitch in his mouth. âHow do I know youâre not stalking me?âÂ
âOh, you would know.â
âReally?â He leans in, brown eyes sparking like pools of chocolate. âAnd howâs that?âÂ
âBecause Iâd be better at it,â you proclaim, emboldened by the alcohol. âYou wouldnât catch me three times in two weeks. Iâd have a whole system. Disguises, a wig collection..â
He laughs loudly. You notice that his dimples pop when he does so, eyes crinkling. âA wig collection.âÂ
âAt minimum. Maybe some fake glasses and a trench coat.âÂ
âClearly, youâve thought about this,â he hums.Â
You raise your hands in defense. âIâm just saying, if I were stalking you, youâd never know it unless I wanted you to know.âÂ
âShould I be concerned?â he questions, but heâs grinning.Â
âDepends,â you tilt your head. âAre you worth stalking?âÂ
His fingers spread across the expanse of your spine. âIâd like to think so.âÂ
âConfident.â Another sip of your dirty shirley snakes down your throat, your lips toying with the straw as you peer up at him.Â
His gaze never leaves yours. âBesides, youâre the one who guided my hand to your back. If anyone's being forward hereâŠâÂ
That almost makes you choke on your sugary drink. âI was justââ
âGiving me the green light,â he finishes. âI remember. Trust me, I remember.âÂ
Your mind stumbles, then short-circuits.Â
You resort to drinking more alcohol, needing something to do with your hands thatâs not touching him. âThis is crazy, right? Us, here?âÂ
âCrazy how?âÂ
âYou know how. I mean, ten years ago, I was copying your chemistry homework, and now youâre so⊠youâreâŠâ
Thereâs not a single English word that properly describes what present day Jeon Jungkook does to you, with his tattoos and lip rings and expensive cologne and platinum credit card and⊠fuck.Â
âIâm what?â He leans closer, waiting, expecting.Â
âThis.â you say helplessly. âAll of this.âÂ
âIs there something wrong with.â he uses his free hand to motion over his toned body, âthis?â
âNo. Nothing. Thatâs the problem.â It slips out before you can stop it. âIt would be easier if something was wrong with it.âÂ
The hand not looped around your waist moves from the bartop to your dress, fingers finding the hem where itâs ridden up on your thigh. He plays with the fabric absentmindedly, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. âIf no oneâs told you, by the way,â he mutters just loud enough for you to hear him over the music, âthis dress looks insane on you.âÂ
The wind is knocked out of your chest, a jolt of electricity flashing through your core. âNo oneâs told me yet. Youâre the first.âÂ
His eyes drag up from where his fingers are flirting with your dress, traveling up your body until they meet yours. âYou look fucking gorgeous,â he says. âThere. Now I'm the second to say it.âÂ
Itâs hard to breathe, hard to swallow. Even harder to find words, or form a coherent sentence.Â
âYouâIâyou canâtââ
âCanât..?â His hands donât dare move from your dress, knuckles occasionally brushing against your thigh. âCanât tell you the truth?â
âYou know what youâre doing, Jungkook.âÂ
âI do,â he agrees. âIs it working?âÂ
You want to lie. Want to play it cool. Want to maintain some semblance of the upper hand.Â
But your downfall was inevitable, right from the moment you saw him standing in the cafe. Like a champagne bottle that someone shook a little too hard, a balloon pressed against a thumbtack. It was always meant to explode.Â
âYes,â you admit.Â
âGood.â Both of his hands move to grip the side of your barstool. In one smooth movement, he turns you to face him completely. His legs spread, creating space, and he guides the stool forward with his toe until your thighs slot between his. Heâs caging you in, hands landing atop your thighs, palms warm against your bare skin.Â
Youâre practically pressed against him, his face level with yours, âIs this okay?â he asks again, fingers digging into the flesh.Â
Suddenly, itâs like youâre painfully aware of all the places where he isnât touching you. Your faces, your chests. You want more, need more.Â
âStop asking me that,â you mumble, looking away, but he guides your gaze back with a finger under your chin.Â
âI need to know, princess.â His tone is serious, but you want to smile from the pet name. âTell me if itâs too much.âÂ
âItâs not,â you whisper. âItâs not too much.âÂ
âNo?â
âNo.âÂ
His hands slide up your thighs, hiding underneath the fabric, pushing a boundary that hasn't been tested in a long time. âWhat about now?âÂ
Youâre going to combust. Right here, in the middle of Sinkhole, surrounded by people, you're going to burst into flames.
âStill okay,â you exhale.Â
For one exhilarating second, his eyes drop to your lips, and you think youâll get what youâve been seeing in your dreams the past few nights. You need to get out of here. Away from the crowd, away from the noise, somewhere you can actually hear yourself thinkâor not think. Preferably not think.
âDo you want toâŠâ you start, then hesitate. The words die on your tongue.Â
He cocks his head, hair flopping into his eyes. âDo I want toâŠâÂ
Your heartbeat reverberates in your throat. âTalk somewhere more private? Itâs loud here.âÂ
His composure shifts, and you watch the realization hit him. What you're suggesting. What that implies.
âPrivate,â he repeats. âTo talk.âÂ
âYes.âÂ
âAbout?âÂ
You deadpan, brain racking for a subject, any subject. âStuff,â is what you come up with.
A dry laugh escapes him. âAnd maybe things as well?âÂ
You pout. âImportant stuff.âÂ
âIâm sure.â His smile is lopsided, goofy and full of light. He pulls you up from the barstool until your feet touch the ground again. His hand finds your fingers, easily lacing them. âWhatever you want, princess.âÂ
Where the fuck did that come from? When did he become the type of person to use pet names? And why is it working? Why is that single word making your entire nervous system light up like a Christmas tree?
Tugging you through the crowd, he peers behind him every few seconds to make sure you havenât floated away. His hand is firm around yours, guiding you through the mass of bodies, and you try and catch a glimpse of any of your friends.Â
Unfortunately, you do spot Jimin and Taehyung, pressed against a wall, entranced in a makeout session so intense that theyâre definitely not coming up for air soon. At least you wonât have to explain to them where you went. Yunjin is nowhere to be found, probably on the dance floor or already home with one of her many flings.Â
Jungkook pulls you through another section of the crowd, leading you down a side hallway thatâs mercifully empty. The music is muffled, bass still thumping through the walls but not deafening anymore. You lean back against the cold concrete, the chill a shock against your overheated skin. The wall vibrates with each bass drop, humming in your chest.Â
Jungkook stops in front of you, and you have to tilt your head back to see his face. âWhat did you want to talk about?â Â
Your mind shoots blanks. In this dim hallway, youâve become aware of how completely the tables have turned. Ten years ago, you held all the cards. You were the girl who made him nervous, who had him stumbling over words, who could get him to do anything with a smile and a flutter of your eyelashes. But now youâre the one whoâs heart is racing, who feels like you might explode from a single touch. He has the upper hand, utterly, entirely. And you handed it to him willingly. Put his hand on your waist, guided him here, and now youâre putty in his hands and he knows it.Â
âYou make me nervous,â you blurt out.Â
The silence that engulfs you feels like punishment. Your mouth goes dry, palms sweating under the guise of his stare.Â
He takes a step closer. Thereâs little to no space between you. âThatâs interesting.âÂ
âWhy is that interesting?â Your back is pressed against the wall. Nowhere to go.Â
âYou used to make me nervous,â he says, bracing his hand on the wall. His bicep strains and you have to fight the urge to ogle at them. âFor years.âÂ
âThat was different, Jungkook.âÂ
âWas it?â He studies you. âIn what way?âÂ
âWell, because now youâre you, and Iâmââ
âIâm me?â His eyebrows raise an inch, lips curling upwards in a smirk. âWhat does that mean?âÂ
Why did you drink so much alcohol? Why, why, why? Maybe if you hadnât, your lips wouldnât be so goddamn loose. Your filter would still be in tact. You wouldnât be staring at him like you want to devour him whole.Â
You peer up at him, eyelashes fluttering. His cheeks are flushed from the amount of drinks heâs consumed, and heâs close enough that you can see the moles that litter his face. The one under his lip. The one on his nose. You want to kiss each and every single one of them. Map them out with your lips until you have them memorized.Â
You give up on any pretense of playing it cool. âYou know youâre hot, Jungkook.âÂ
âDo I know?â The smirk on his face grows tenfold, and god, you want to kiss it off him. âYouâve never told me this before.âÂ
âHigh school was different.âÂ
âYouâve said that a lot, but itâs actually not that different,â he murmurs.Â
âHm?â
His gaze drops to your lips for the hundredth time tonight. âBecause Iâm still so fucking unbelievably, out of my mind, attracted to you.â
Your brain struggles to process itâthat heâs felt this way for years. That it never went away. That all the confidence and cockiness is built on top of the same desire that made teenage Jungkook stutter around you.
âYouâre just saying things,â you whisper. But youâve known. Youâve always known.Â
His hand falls from the wall to cup your jaw. âYou think I begged Jimin for your number because I was just being polite? You think I showed up at three different cafes hoping fate would bring us together because Iâm casual about this?â
âBut you said that cafe was your regular spotââ
He fights to hide the smile creeping onto his face. âIâve wanted you since I was a teenager.â His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. âSomehow, impossibly, I want you even more now.âÂ
Your heart is trying to break out of the confines of your ribcage. âJungkook.âÂ
His forehead is almost touching yours. âWhatâs different is that now Iâm not terrified to tell you.â
You donât know what else to say to him, so you smile as brightly as you can, letting your happiness live on your face.Â
âHow many drinks have you had tonight?â he asks.Â
You scrunch your brows together. âA lot of soju. That dirty shirley. Why?âÂ
Bluntly, he says, âBecause I want to kiss you. But not if youâre too drunk to remember it tomorrow.âÂ
You squeak, back slightly arching off the wall. Youâve never wanted anything more, never ached to feel someone the way you do him. Heat travels through your veins, burning you to your core.Â
âI told you, Iâm tipsy,â you rush to protest. âIâll remember this tomorrow.âÂ
It should be embarrassing how quickly you reassure him, how the words tumble out of your mouth.Â
His forehead presses against yours, and itâs a miracle you donât dissolve into a puddle. âThen can Iââ
âYes,â you interrupt. If he doesnât kiss you in the next five seconds, you might actually die.Â
âI didnât finish the question.â His lips ghost over yours, a gentle taste of what you yearn for.Â
âI donât care what the question is,â you exhale. âThe answer is yes.âÂ
And then his lips are on yours.Â
Never in your high school years did you imagine how Jeon Jungkook kissed. Never thought about how his lips would feel against your own. Never cared to think about it.Â
This past week, however, youâve spent more time imagining this exact scenario than youâve spent breathing. But reality is superior to whatever your brain could conjure up. Your imagination could never describe Jungkookâs demanding kiss, or the way his lips melt into yours with utmost certainty. His hand slides from your jaw to your cheek, cradling it. The other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him.Â
A mix of a gasp and a moan falls from your lips, and he swallows it wholly. Your fists find his shirt, tugging on the fabric, pulling him closer even though thereâs no space between you. His lip rings are cold against your mouth, a contrast to the heat of his lips and the heat between your thighs. Parting your lips, his tongue sweeps in, tastes just like you smelled earlierâwhiskey and peppermint. Your lip gloss is definitely everywhere at this pointâon him, on you, probably on the wall behind youâbut you couldnât care less.
His strong hand travels from your cheek down, down, fingers wrapping loosely around your throat. Claiming, holding. The possessiveness of the gesture sends heat pooling low into your stomach. Jungkookâs thumb presses into your pulse point, feeling how your heart is racing.Â
And when you do finally pull away, your heart is still going berzerk. His lips are shiny with your gloss, pink and swollen and thoroughly kissed. You can't help but giggle at the sight.Â
âWhat?â he asks, breathless. The tips of his ears are tickled pink.
âYouâre wearing my lip gloss,â you giggle again, reaching up to wipe it with your thumb. But he doesnât let you get far, catches your wrist and presses a kiss right where your flowery perfume is sprayed. He takes a deep inhale and smiles back at you like you hung the moon and stars. Your heart is pumping so wildly youâre worried it might actually burst out of your chest.
Then his lips are on your neck, trailing down to your exposed collarbone, finding every sensitive spot with ease like he already knows you, like he holds the map to your body. He holds you tight to him, groundingâand thank god because your legs are shaking so badly that you're not sure you could stand without him holding you up.
âJungkook,â you gasp, and he hums against your skin. His mouth finds your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses, and youâre pretty sure youâre going to pass out. Your fingers thread through his unruly dark brown locks, tugging slightly at the nape.Â
And you canât really help the intrusive thoughts that leap in your mind, the tidal wave of desire that keeps lapping at your core. Heâs insatiable, and you feel gluttonous. âDo you wannaââ you start, but his teeth graze your pulse point and your brain turns to mush. âmaybeâahhâgo to mine?â
He halts, pulls back enough to look at you. âIs that what you want?â His voice is strained, the thread of self-control growing weaker and weaker.Â
Your brain is fuzzy from alcohol and kissing and the feeling of his hands on your waist, but you know what you're saying. You know what you're offering. Youâre done fighting whatever decade-old guilt lives inside you, because you deserve him. Maybe youâre finally ready to accept it. To trust that youâve grown, that youâre growing, that youâre not done growing and thats okay. You deserve all the good that Jeon Jungkook has to offer. âYes,â you breathe, âI wantâI want you.â
His eyes search for hesitation. âYouâve been drinking, and I don't want you to feel like you need toââ
âIâm sure.â Cupping his face in your hands, you cut his sentence in half. Donât even let it slip between you. âI know what I want.â
Somehow, his eyes have gone darker, fingers tightening for purchase. âSay it again,â he murmurs.Â
âI want you, Jungkook.â Your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, catching on his lip rings. âTake me home.â
âFucking hell,â he practically moans, and then his lips are on you again with an urgency that wasnât there before. âWe should probably tell your friends weâre leaving.â
âJiminâs busy.â If you had to guess, heâs on his knees at home, getting topped by Kim Taehyung. âAnd Yunjin will understand. Your friends?â
âThey know who you are.â
A swarm of butterflies kick up in your stomach.Â
You tug on his shirt. âNow can we please go before I lose my mind?âÂ
His answer to that is another quick kissâbut still thorough, because who is he if not a man starvedâand he pulls you through the hallway, back into the club, into the thick of the chaos still lingering this late in the night. You hardly register any of it. The lights, the bass of the music, the bodies pressing against you as you squeeze by. None of it matters.Â
You feel like youâre floating, like your feet are moving but you canât feel the ground, like youâre walking on clouds. His hand is wrapped around yours, pulling you forward, and youâd follow him anywhere right now. To the ends of the earth. Off a cliff.Â
Once the crisp night air hits your skin, Jungkook is already scanning the street, hand raised to hail a taxi. One pulls up within secondsâitâs got to be fate, or the universe supporting your agenda to get laidâand he opens the door, ushering you inside with a hand on the small of your back.Â
Jungkook shuts the door forcefully, immediately snuggling into your side, leaving little to no room for you to create space between you two. Not that you wanted to, but you want to giggle at how utterly fearful he seems of distance from you.Â
âWhere to?â the driver asks, eyeing Jungkook in the rearview.Â
You rattle off your address, and the cab pulls off into traffic. Seoul at this hour is never quietâin fact, itâs usually more lively, since clubs stay open until the wee hours of the morning. But all you can really focus on is Jungkook beside you, his thigh pressed against yours in the cramped backseat. His fingers lace through yours. An innocent, sweet gesture, a complete contrast from what was happening ten minutes ago against that hallway wall. Â
You look down at your intertwined handsâhis so much larger than yours, rings cool against your skin. A smile bestows upon your lips. When you glance up at him, heâs staring at you with this fond expression that makes your heart stutter.
âWhat?â you ask, giddy.Â
âNothing,â he replies, but the smile on his face doesnât disappear. âI just canât believe this is happening.âÂ
âMe neither,â you admit sheepishly.Â
His hand reaches over, tugging the hem of your dress down where itâs ridden up your thigh. The action would be chivalrous, if not for the way his fingers linger, if not for the way his jaw clenches, if not for the way his fond expression darkens into something sinister.Â
âYou need to stop moving,â he says, a deep exhale following his words.Â
You roll your eyes. âIâm not even moving.â
âYour⊠dress is moving.â His hand remains on your thigh, holding the fabric down. âI canât hold it together if this dress rides up any more.âÂ
âOh.âÂ
He shifts in his jeans, clearly uncomfortable. You have to fight not to avert your eyes to his crotch.Â
âDo you know how long itâll take to get to her apartment?â Jungkook asks the driver. You snort loudly.Â
He shrugs. Clearly, the man has never shared Jungkookâs predicament, because he looks unbothered by the urgency in his voice. âAbout twenty minutes.âÂ
Jungkook groans, leaning back into the seat, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them again and catches your gaze, he has to close them to calm his friend down there. And it does make you giggle again, but what you want more than anything is to feel him. For him to give you a part of him that you didnât know you needed until now.Â
You whisper in his ear. âI donât want you to hold it together.â
His eyes fly open, and you watch his Adamâs apple bob up and down. âDonât tempt me right now, [Y/N].â
âWhy not?â And you pull out your tricksâyou bat your eyelashes, tilt your head down, lick your lips to wet them. His face grows pale.Â
âBecause weâre in a cab,â he murmurs, staring at your lips. âAnd Iâm trying to be respectful.â
âMaybe I want you to disrespect me right now.â
The words are barely out of your mouth before he's kissing you again. His hand leaves your dress to cup your face, angling your head so he can kiss you deeper.Â
The cab driver clears his throat. You both ignore him, too hypnotized by the other to think about stopping. He pulls you as close as he can, and a frustrated noise escapes from your lips. Thereâs too many layers, too much distance, and he smiles knowingly against your lips.Â
He seems to know just what you need.Â
Jungkookâs large hand lands on your knee, caressing the supple skin.Â
âYou know how to be quiet, baby?âÂ
You nod meekly.Â
His voice brushes against the shell of your ear, hand traveling up your thigh to mask itself under the fabric of your dress. âGood girl. Spread your legs for me.â
Eyes widening, you stare up at him blankly. There is no way on this planet, Jeon Jungkook, the man who you were sureâup until nowânever had his first kiss, is about to finger you in a taxi. But his hand moving near your lace panties says otherwise. You jolt forward at the feeling of his deft fingers swiping at the fabric as discreetly as possible. You gasp, and he tosses you a look before you slap your hand over your mouth. Luckily, the taxi driver seems more focused on the fastest route to your apartment than whatever debauchery is occurring in his backseat. Itâs also dark in the car, impossible for the naked eye to see Jungkookâs movements.Â
He presses against the wet spot on your underwear, and heat creeps up your neck at the realization of just how turned on heâs had you since the hallway. Maybe even before then, if youâre being honest. He smiles at the revelation.Â
Your nails dig into the leather seat of the cab. Jungkookâs tattooed fingers push aside your underwear, his pointer finger collecting the arousal. A whimper escapes you, and when you look at him, the look on his face sends another round of wetness dripping down his finger. âGod, baby, youâre so fucking wet,â he whispers into your ear, letting two fingers ghost over your clit, gently pushing the bundle of nerves. âDidnât know public sex turned you on so much.âÂ
You bite back a moan. The teasing pace heâs set over your clit would be fun, if you had a constant stream of sexual endeavors, but unfortunately, youâre as desperate as a raccoon sifting through trash. Gripping onto his wrist, you push him onto you fiercely. âNeedy, arenât we?â he mutters.Â
All you can reply with is a quick nod. He chuckles softly, rubbing circles on your clit with the pad of his pointer and middle finger. Your head falls back on the headrest, eyes squeezed tight, tight, tight as you try to calculate how he found your clit so fast. Itâs so wet, dripping onto the seat, his hands, that you could cum just from the stimulation of it all.Â
âWhat do you want, princess? Hm?â Somehow, it sounds like heâs far away from you, like youâre caught on your own cloud of bliss. You want to ask for more, need more like itâs oxygen. His rhythm slows just a tad, enough to have your eyes flying open. âI asked you a question.â
Oh. Oh. So heâs that kind of guy.Â
âI wantâI want your fingers,â you whisper feebly.Â
âYeah? Where, princess? Iâll give you whatever you want.â he kisses your shoulder, your jaw, and it makes your brain fuzzy around the edges.Â
The tantalizing pace heâs set on your clit makes it hard to speak. âW-want you to fuck me with them.â
His lips curl upwards, eyes blazing. âYou like my fingers?â Another nod. He removes his fingers from your clit, slipping back out underneath your dress. Youâre about to protest, maybe even kick him out of the car, until you watch him make direct eye contact with you, and place his fingers in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around the digits. You blink. What the actual fuck have you gotten yourself into?
âPlease, Jungkook,â you beg, your nails scrambling to dig in his clothed thigh. He chastises you, laughs at you, before slithering under your dress again, plunging his fingers directly into your sopping entrance. You gasp, loud enough to make the driver look in the rearview, but you bite your bottom lip before any more can escape. âI know you can take it. If you can take that douchebag Kim Mingyu, you can handle me. Although, after Iâm done with you, my name might be the only name you moan for the rest of your life.âÂ
You should hate that. You really, really should. But clearly, your dignity has taken the night off, and in its place is a woman who is so endeared over being degraded by Jeon Jungkook.Â
His fingers pump in and out, achingly slow, making you feel every inch. Youâre gripping his thigh so tightly you swear thereâll be claw marks. Your head rests on the back of your seat, chest heaving. If not for the sound of traffic outside, the driver might be able to hear the way your pussy squelches with each movement.Â
Jungkookâs lips press against your jaw, litter around your neck. âMore,â you mumble, sounding drunker than you did in the club.Â
âGod, youâre so fucking wet. I canât wait to be inside you. Gonna fuck you all night.â Lewd words continue to spill from his lips. Sending waves of arousal onto his fingers, more for him to play with as he picks up his pace. He curls his fingers upwards, reaching that sensitive spot that far and few men have ever found. Your body trembles, thighs shaking, and Jungkookâs hand lands on them to try and steady you.Â
His thumb finds your clit, rubbing sloppy circles as he brings you to the brink of your orgasm. Your eyes fight to stay open, looking over at Jungkookâand holy hell. His arm veins are popping out, mostly from the amount of effort heâs putting into fucking into you to completion, his dark hair flopping over his face. His silver chain bounces off his chest, reflecting on the city lights outside.Â
And you donât even realize how quickly youâre about to cum, tears brimming your eyes from the way his fingers pump in and out you wildly, thumb matching his pace over your clit. âSo tight around my fingers, princess. You gonna cum?âÂ
Thereâs no way you can be quiet about this. Not with how fucking good he looks, not with how easily his fingers slip in and out you, hitting your sweet spot. You bury your head in his neck, moaning into his warm skin, trying to muffle the sound as much as possible. âFuck, Jungkook.âÂ
âWant you to cum on my fingers, princess. Can you do that for me?â You nod into his neck.Â
Your walls clench around his fingers one last time, to the point where he can hardly move them, his thumb working you through the orgasm that ripples through your body. Your fingers claw at his arm, teeth biting at his neck. You can feel yourself lose control, heart beating erratically in your chest.Â
Jungkookâs fingers halt inside you, thumb coaxing you through the rest of your orgasm. âItâs okay, princess. Iâve got you.âÂ
Your body completely slumps into him, still feeling full with his two fingers inside you.Â
Finally, after he allows you a moment to catch your breath, he pulls them out of your pussy, soaked with your creamy arousal. âOpen,â he says gently, but when you look up at him, his gaze is hardly sympathetic. Your lips part for him, and he places his fingers on your tongue. You swirl it around, tasting yourself, sweet and salty and warm, foreign to you. Jungkookâs eyes never leave yours.Â
âGood job, baby,â he says as he removes his fingers, pressing one, two chaste kisses on your lips.Â
All things considered, youâre in absolute shock. Somewhere between high school and now, Jeon Jungkook learned how to kiss like heâs trying to ruin you for all other men. Where did he learn all this? Who taught him to do that thing with his fingers? How does he know exactly where to put his hands, exactly how much pressure to use to make you lose your mind?
The thought of him practicing on other peopleâother girlsâmakes something ugly twist in your stomach.Â
Youâre an evil, evil girl. âWhereâd you learn all that?âÂ
He raises an eyebrow, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. âAre you asking about my sexual history now?âÂ
âNo.â
âYou are,â he teases. âYouâre not jealous, right?â
If only he knew how ill you felt at the idea of another girl knowing how his fingers can easily find their g-spot.Â
âI am not jealous.â You feign indifference, but your voice comes out all defensive and petulant, which kind of ruins it all. âJust asking a question.âÂ
âYou want to know who I've been with?â he asks, clearly trying not to laugh.Â
âNever said that.âÂ
He presses another soft kiss against your lips. âThereâs been other people. Iâm not going to lie about that. But thatâs not a big deal.âÂ
You furrow your brows. âWhy?âÂ
His thumb traces circles on your thigh. âBecause I thought about you during all of it. I wondered what youâd feel like, wondered what sounds you would make. So, yeah,â he continues. âI learned some things. But I only ever wanted to use them on you.âÂ
You kiss him again because you donât know what else to do with the feeling expanding in your chest. Because heâs looking at you like that and saying things like that and your heart is fluttering out of your body. God, if that doesnât make you want to drag him upstairs immediately.
The cab pulls up to your building and Jungkook is already pulling out his wallet, throwing bills at the driver without checking the amount. "Keep the change," he says, and then he's out of the cab, pulling you with him.
Your legs are unsteady when you standâfrom the alcohol, from the kissing, from everythingâand his arm wraps around your waist, steadying you. âIâm not done with you yet, princess.âÂ
And, really, heâs not joking because heâs on you the second you step through the door to your apartment. Barely even crosses the threshold before his lips are colliding with yours passionately, slamming your spine into the wall by your entryway. His hands cup your cheeks entirely. He canât get enough of you, like opposite poles of a magnet attracting. Shortly after his affair with the entryway, Jungkook moves a little more down your hallway, but youâre too focused on kissing him to direct him. Your shoes are discarded, purse on the floor, and then your back finds another cool wall to rest against.Â
Jungkook assaults your neck, leaving a trail of bruises that are going to take a hell of a lot of explaining tomorrow. Your apartment probably sounds like the set of some cheap porno, what with Jungkookâs whimpers and your moans, and neither of you are even naked yet. Your hands run over the front of his chest, feeling his sculpted body underneath his shirt.Â
âFuck, youâre so beautiful,â he murmurs into your collarbone, where heâs leaving hickeys in his wake. His hands wander over your chest, cupping them over your dress. Without another word or warning, he yanks down the top of your dress, your breasts spilling out. You canât help the gasp that escapes you as he manhandles you, his lips coming to wrap around your hardened nipple. His tongue swipes over the sensitive nub, eyes peering up expectantly, watching every facial expression that contorts on your face.Â
Your eyes squeeze tightly, a kaleidoscope of color blooming behind your vision. âJungkook,â you moan, carding your fingers through his unruly hair.Â
Without preamble, Jungkook kisses your nipples one last time before dropping to his knees on your hardwood floor with a resounding thump.Â
You open your eyes. The sight in front of you is fucking ungodly. If you look closely, you can see Jungkook from high school, expectantly looking up at you with puppy dog eyes, pushing your dress up to hang around your waist.Â
âW-what are you doing?â you ask.Â
He looks drunk. âNeed to eat you out. I want to taste you, princess.â
You donât remember the last time a man has looked so needy to feel you, to taste you. Actually, you canât remember a time this even occurred.Â
You exhale. âYes. Yes, please.âÂ
Thatâs all he really needs. Jungkook doesnât waste a moment more in burying his face between your folds as though itâs his last meal on earth. His fingers come to spread your lips open for him as he flicks his tongue over your nub, sending you bent over as you scramble for purchase in his hair, his shoulders, anything. âOh, fuck, Jungkook, right there.âÂ
He notices your struggle to stand upright, and then heâs guiding your leg over his shoulder, toes dangling. He moans into your pussy, a breathy little exhale that sends fire shooting through your veins. Jungkookâs strong arm holds your leg in place over his shoulder. His tongue fucks inside of you shallowly, your eyes rolling backwards. âTastes so sweet, so fucking heavenly, baby,â he mutters but it barely makes its way into your ears. You can feel his lip rings swiping over your arousal, the cool metal causing your thighs to quake uncontrollably.Â
And then youâre just babbling profanities, a mantra of his name, curse words. A litany of praise. Some other embarrassing things you hope he never remembers.Â
âI feel g-guilty. For the way I treated y-you in high school,â you stammer, quivering against his face as he licks another stripe up your slit.Â
You donât know why itâs all coming out now, but it is. God, you were such a bitch in high school. Such an egotistical brat who was too caught in her own ways to ever see that there was more to life than social status and cheerleading.Â
His tongue encircles your clit, one of your hands flying to his hair to tug. âDonât feel guilty,â he murmurs. âThatâs not what I want you to feel right now. I want to make you feel good.âÂ
His tongue travels from your hole to your clit, and normally the rhythm would throw you off, but heâs so skillful about the whole thing that youâre teetering on the brink of an orgasm. And he must know, must be able to read your body like itâs something he spent years studying, because heâs sucking on your clit, letting his tongue flick over it repeatedly, maintaining a rhythm that has you screaming, âOh fuck, oh shit, Iâm gonnaâJungkook, Iâm gonna cum.âÂ
That doesnât deter him the slightest. Spurs him on like heâs entered in some kind of pussy-eating competition. Youâll spend years talking about this experience, you think.Â
Your fingers tighten in his hair, tangling, tugging, and your entire body vibrates as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. He fucks you through it, keeps going until youâre pushing him away with your toe forcefully. When he finally gives up, he says from between your legs, âBetter than Kim Mingyu?âÂ
Maybe you shouldnât care about high school anymore, but you canât help but laugh, smile at him. âHe never even ate me out, Koo.âÂ
His face softensâ whether thatâs because of the nickname you adorned him with or the fact that Mingyu was an asshole, youâll never knowâand heâs standing up, pressing a dirty kiss to your lips. Itâs messy, sloppy, tongue over teeth, but so undeniably him that you cling to him like a koala. âHeâs the biggest idiot of all time to miss out on that.âÂ
âHmm,â you hum against his lips. They taste just like you, and it sends another gush of arousal pouring out of you. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist, your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. Youâre drowning in himâhis taste, his smell, the way heâs kissing you like heâs been starving for it. You can feel his length poking against your thigh, and your heart skips at just how large it al;ready feels through his jeans.Â
Your hands roam down his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath his shirt, tracing lower until your fingers find his belt. You fumble with the buckle, fingers clumsy with desire. Jungkook looks down at your manicured fingers, easily working, speaking to how much experience you have. His cock throbs at the thought.Â
Youâre about to get on your knees, return the favor, but he stops you as soon as you lower an inch.Â
Jungkook simply says, âThe next time I want you to cum, is going to be on my cock.âÂ
Okay, yes sir. Heâs all dominating and commanding and it makes your pussy clench around nothing.Â
His forehead drops against yours, breath punching out of him. âFuck, I need to be inside you.âÂ
The metal clinks as his pants drop to the floor, his Calvin Klein boxers doing little to hide how big he is. Jungkook kicks them off, eager to remove as many layers as possible. Your mouth salivates, and youâre positive a sliver of drool is slithering out of your mouth. His hands tighten on your hips, bruising the skin.Â
You kiss him again, but this time, itâs rougher, faster, hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, and he makes a sound between a groan and a whimper that makes you feel powerful. Your hands roam, searching, untilâ
Holy shit. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his length. Heâs big, no doubt about that. But itâs the fucking girth of it that has your mouth watering. Heâs thick, and you can feel the veins that decorate his cock.Â
Jesus Christ. This is what your Chemistry tutor was hiding under his pants. A fucking anaconda.Â
But youâre not about to admit that.Â
No shot in hell.Â
âMhmm, I feel like youâre kinda small,â you tease, battling your eyelashes at him as you stroke his hardened length dangerously slow.Â
His nostrils flare. âYeah? Think Iâm small, baby?âÂ
âTiny.â
Your thumb drags over his tip, and then you feel it. A piece of metal. Jeon Jungkook has a fucking dick piercing.Â
His eyes set ablaze as he realizes that you know. âFucking hell, youâre still the same brat youâve always been.â
Jungkookâs lips collide with yours, and he kicks off his boxers urgently. âFuck,â he breathes against your mouth. Suddenly his hands are gripping the backs of your thighs, lifting you up like you weigh nothing. You gasp, legs wrapping around his waist as your back hits the wall harder. The new position puts you at eye level with him, head spinning. He reaches down between your bodies to let his cock sit in between your wet folds, ever so teasing.Â
Your fingernails dig into the nape of his neck, head lolling back against the wall. âPlease fuck me, Koo. Wanna feel you inside me.â
âOh, now you want to beg? After you called me tiny?â He hisses as he swirls the tip over your clit, the cool metal of his piercing sending shockwaves down your spine.Â
âPlease,â you beg. âPleasepleaseplease.â Itâs slurred when it leaves your mouth, breath catching when you look down and see the way the metal reflects off his soaking tip, encased in your juices. âI need it.âÂ
With that, he pushes into you, all inches of his length, squirming in his arms. You scramble to hold onto something, opting for his biceps that are straining with the weight of holding you up. A moan leaves both of your mouths. He waits until youâre fully adjusted, taking every inch of him. âFeels so good, princess. So tight and warm, holy shit.âÂ
âJungkook,â you pant. Youâre so full of him, heâs everywhere. Stopping is the last thing on your mind. Youâre a woman made of greed. âYouâre soâfuckâbig.âÂ
He smiles triumphantly and takes that as his sign to move. He uses his arms to slide you up and down his cock, slamming you onto him, your clit meeting his pubic bone. The piercing drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting the sweet spot inside you that has you screaming a litany of crude words thatâll have your neighbors knocking your door down tomorrow morning. His head falls to the crook of your shoulder, burying himself in your scent.Â
Itâs more than youâve ever taken, beyond any sex youâve ever had in your life. Youâre going to be ruined for all other men and you havenât even made it to the bedroom yet. Your past lovers are about to become a footnote. A distant memory. Ancient fucking history.
The sound of your pussy squelching with each rough thrust fills the room, Jungkookâs hairline beading with sweat as he furiously pounds into you, tits bouncing in his face. He begins to babble, âUsed to cum so hard thinking about you, baby. You in thatâfuckâcheer uniform, with your nipples hard. I wanted to push it to the side and fuck you.â
You moan at the thought. âYeah, why didnât you? I wouldâve rode your face with your glasses on.âÂ
He presses a sloppy kiss on the side of your mouth. âBet you wouldâve loved that, huh? Deflowering the nerd?â
The mental image flashes through your mindâseventeen-year-old Jungkook, all awkward limbs and nervous stammering, those thick-framed glasses sliding down his nose while you sat on his face in the library after hours. You wouldâve been so mean about it too. Wouldâve made him beg, wouldâve had him so desperate and eager to please that he wouldâve done anything you asked. Wouldâve probably given him the best night of his teenage life and then ignored him in the hallway the next day because you were dating Mingyu and had a reputation to maintain.
âI wouldâve made you cumâahh, shitâso hard.â You try your hardest to maintain eye contact, but everytime you do, your walls flutter around his cock. âYou wouldâve been obsessed.â
âI was already obsessed,â he groans, nipping at your jaw. His balls slap against your ass, adding to the horrific amount of sounds eliciting from your apartment. âIt couldnât have gotten much worse.â
He has a very fair point.Â
You thread your fingers through his hair, already on the brink of another orgasm. Everything about himâhis scent, the way his tattoos glisten with sweat, how his bottom lip is tugged underneath his front teethâsends your mind into delirium. Heâs fucking you with enough force to have your head bouncing off the wall every few thrusts, that you feel it resound along your bones.Â
âFuck, I donât wanna cum yet,â he whimpers into your skin. âBut god, I donât think Iâll be able to last.â
Neither will you, but an idea sparks in your pretty little head. You crook a finger under his jaw, making him look at you. His expression is completely fucked out, lips swollen, cheeks ruddy. His thrusts slow, enough so that he can pay attention to your words. âI want to get on top. Let me fuck you, Jungkook.âÂ
He nods, and then heâs readjusting you in his arms, with you clinging to him like a newborn baby. You giggle as he frantically tries to find your bedroom, pausing every few moments to press a few kisses to your cheeks and lips.Â
Finally, he locates your room, plopping you down on the bed, and you moan at the sudden emptiness you feel with his cock gone. He tosses his t-shirt over his head.Â
Jungkook sits up against the headboard, gently stroking his length as he watches you move to bracket his thighs, settling over his tip. âReady for me, princess?âÂ
Eagerly, you shake your head in approval, and you sink down inch by inch onto his length. For some reason, in this position, it feels like heâs stretching you out more, your walls sucking him in greedily. Your hands come to rest on his beefy chest, nails digging into the skin.Â
Thereâs not many things you're good at, but one thing you are insanely talented at? Riding cock like itâs your god given right. Your hips undulate wildly, bouncing up and down to accommodate his full length. Jungkook watches in awe, in a trance, as you cream his cock. His hands come to sit at your hips, guiding you the best he can. His head rests against the headboard, lazily watching as you play with your tits. âRide my cock,â he groans, âjust like that, princess.â Â
âYou stretch me out so good, Jungkook,â you moan, thighs trembling with each movement. He can feel you getting closer to the edge, already riled up from the previous position. Your walls clench around him, sucking him in. His thumb falls to your clit again, finding it so easily after so many rounds. âRight there, baby,â you chant, eyes closed. âRight fucking there.â
âJesus, I'm so close,â he grunts, beginning to thrust upwards into you as your own pace slows. The sounds are beyond obsceneâhis cock plunging into your wetness, headboard slamming against the wall. You donât care about any of it, not one bit, as long he keeps fucking into you.Â
It was always obvious from the moment he kissed you at the club that neither of you were going to last long, anyway.Â
âFuck, Iâm cumming,â you practically scream, which would have you embarrassed, but he seems just as ruined as you.Â
Your orgasm washes over you, legs shaking as your mouth tears open around a sound that might be his name, might be something else entirely. Your walls flutter around him, and Jungkook canât help himself anymore. âFuck, baby, Iâm gonna cum too. Can Iâfuckâcan I cum inside?âÂ
You nod like a broken bobblehead. Thank god for modern medicine.Â
He empties into you, bruising your hips with his hold. Heâs so attractive when he finishes that you almost orgasm again from the sight. His bare chest heaves, a slight sheen of sweat layered on the skin.Â
For a few moments, you two catch your breath, letting his cock soften entirely inside you. He looks worn, eyes drooping.Â
But after an eternity, you finally roll off him. Youâre not sure what you were expecting in terms of aftercare, but your heart flutters when he lazily wraps his arms around you, tugging you into his side to rest your cheek on his chest. Itâs comforting, with his hands playing with your hair, his own heart thumping along in his chest. Reminding you that youâre here with him, and this is real.Â
Silence has never been so peaceful.Â
You think youâll fall asleep like this, but then he says, âI want to see you again.âÂ
Your heart softens around the edges, at the notion that he believes youâll never speak to him again after this. You canât blame him for it. Itâs exactly what high school you wouldâve done.Â
But youâre not 17 anymore, and you deserve all the good he has to offer you. No more silly little games.Â
âI would really like that,â you whisper back.Â
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. âMind checking your calendar for me?âÂ
You grin like a lovesick idiot. âYup. Checking right now. And it looks like Iâm free this whole week.âÂ
âThursday, then. Dinner at 7,â he confirms. âYouâre not going to, like, make me beg for a real answer this time, are you?â
Giggling, you respond, âMaybe I should check that calendar againâŠâ
He sits up, pouting. âDonât. Donât you dare,â he warns, and then his hands are moving to tickle your sides.Â
You squeal, squirming away, but he just pulls you back against him. The laughs that escape you are so full of sunshine that you hardly recognize them. Youâve been living under a fog for so long that when it lifted, you forgot how bright life could be.Â
âOkay, okay!â you gasp, and his fingers still. âThursday. 7 oâclock.â
âThere we go.â He kisses your forehead. âWas that so hard?â
âHardest thing Iâve ever done,â you say dramatically, resuming your post, nestled into his side.Â
âLiar.â His fingers resume playing with your hair. âYou like me.â
You feel like a kid in kindergarten, caught passing a note in class with âdo you like me? check yes or noâ scrawled in messy handwriting. Like youâre on the playground at recess, heart racing because your crush smiled at you across the monkey bars. But itâs got you just as giddy. âI guess I do.âÂ
Jungkook reaches over to pull the blanket over you two. âSo what happens now?â you wonder aloud. Itâs an innocent question, but somehow loaded with more intent than you realize.Â
âNow?â he yawns. âNow you let me stay the night. Then tomorrow Iâm gonna make you the most fire breakfast of all time. Then Thursday, Iâll take you to the best dinner of your life. And thenââ
âThereâs more?â Your eyes widen in sarcasm.Â
âAnd then I keep taking you out until you realize youâre in love with me too.â
Your heartbeat is quick but steady in your chest. âPretty confident about that, hm?â
âExtremely so.â Jungkook yawns again, voice getting drowsy. âIâve got years of romcom knowledge. Iâve read those Tumblr fanfics. You donât stand a chance.â
Heâs probably right. You donât stand a chance. In fact, you didnât from the moment he stood in front of you at that cafe.Â
Before you close your eyes and float off into sleep, you mumble out, âGod, when did you get so hot?âÂ
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